


Lights in the Shadow

by lantur



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, F/F, F/M, Intrigue, Politics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-11 06:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 36
Words: 133,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lantur/pseuds/lantur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU based on a concept borrowed from LizBee's fanfiction Your Treasure Spent. In which Zuko and Katara do not meet Azula in an Agni Kai, but Aang succeeds in defeating Phoenix King Ozai in combat and taking his bending. </p><p>Azula is crowned Fire Lord. Graciously, she allows Ozai to remain at court, and continue residing in the royal palace. He repays her generosity by arranging her a political marriage that she doesn't want, but has no choice but to accept. And that is only the beginning of her problems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Your Treasure Spent](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/35392) by LizBee. 



> Important points about this story:
> 
> \- As I mentioned, this is an AU based on a concept from LizBee's fanfiction, Your Treasure Spent. In her story, Azula kills Zuko and Katara during the Agni Kai we saw in canon. Your Treasure Spent focuses on Aang and Mai's quest to avenge Zuko and Katara's deaths. Azula in the Fire Nation is a minor subplot, whereas in this story, Azula and her relationships are the main focus.
> 
> \- In this story, Aang and co., including Zuko and Iroh, are alive and well and biding their time, hiding out in the Earth Kingdom. Instead of being imprisoned at the end of the events of the Boiling Rock, Ty Lee and Mai managed to escape the prison with Zuko and Sokka. The two of them have joined Aang and the rest of his crew. 
> 
> \- Chan Li is not my OC, but LizBee's. His age, profession, and family were taken from the information given in Your Treasure Spent. I developed his personality and character traits based on extrapolation from what little we saw of him in that story.
> 
> \- Warning: This story features an arranged marriage in which one individual is underage and her partner is an adult. There is no explicit content.

One hour after returning from dinner with her father, Azula throws up.  
  
She hadn't eaten much. She hadn't been able to, after what he had said to her. The quarter plate of sweet apricot rice and spicy komodo chicken she had finished before the bombshell had been dropped tastes awful coming up, and it makes her chest burn. After several minutes of dry heaving and leaning over the toilet, trying to hold her hair back, Azula pushes herself to her feet and staggers over to the sink to freshen up.  
  
She had dismissed all of her servants upon entering, and her rooms are eerily quiet. Even as she brushes her teeth, scrubbing them with such force that her gums grow tender and the pale green paste she spits out is tinged with blood, the conversation replays in her head, over and over again.  
  
Her new lavender-scented face wash, imported from the Altai Mountains, is supposed to relieve stress and promote relaxation - at least, according to the useless spa assistant who had recommended the product to her. The face wash does nothing, and Azula is struck with the temptation to pick up the glass bottle and fling it across the expansive bathroom, letting it shatter against the crystal walls.  
  
She stifles it, with some difficulty. Tightening her robe around her, she stumbles out of the bathroom and toward her massive bed, her feet sinking into the plush carpet. The bed is so high that she requires a teak footstool to climb onto it, and Azula sinks against the silk covers at an odd angle, half lying down, and half hunched over the pillows. Her fingernails scratch at their satin coverings in a halfhearted attempt to tear, but she gives that up after a few moments.  
  
It is more satisfying to imagine herself ordering her guards to break down her father's door and drag him from his desk, all the way down into the dungeons. To the darkest, smallest, deepest cell in the entire palace. Azula closes her eyes and imagines the click of the lock, and it's a more pleasing sound than any music she has ever heard at the symphony.  
  
She cannot believe his insolence. This is downright insubordination. Giving her unasked-for advice on matters of state is one thing, but arranging a marriage for her without her knowledge and consent is something else entirely.  
  
Azula massages her aching forehead, her mind racing, searching for a solution. She can manufacture some charge against her father, have him arrested, and have the betrothal contract nullified. Or she could just break the betrothal on the grounds that she was not informed beforehand.  
  
Both options are not viable. Even after several minutes of thought, she can't come up with anything her father has done, in the six months since her ascension to the throne, to justify an arrest. He has been careful. Damn him. And as for the other option - if it were any other family in the Fire Nation, she wouldn't have thought twice about breaking the engagement, just to spite her father. It would teach him never to maneuver behind her back again.  
  
The act of going through with the betrothal sets a terrible precedent. Her marriage is one of the most important choices she will ever make, and her father had taken that from her. If she allows this, he will begin taking more and more liberties, until he's ruling through her, merely using her as a puppet.  
  
Azula grits her teeth at the thought. The appropriate course of action would be to nip this in the bud immediately, and send her father into exile as punishment. But Admiral Chan's family has been loyal to theirs for centuries, supporting the royal family in every one of the Fire Nation's rebellions. They have married into the royal family before, several decades ago. They are amongst the wealthiest and most influential of the Fire Nation nobility's upper echelon. As much as she hates to admit it, it would be disastrous to slight such a loyal and wealthy family - not during times like these. They would make terrible enemies.  
  
She is trapped, well and truly, and the thought is enough to send another surge of nausea through her. Azula rolls over onto her stomach, shutting her eyes tightly, feeling them sting.  
  
The night after her coronation, she had been unable to sleep. She had gone outside to her private training grounds, destroyed two of them beyond recognition, and afterward, she had sat in the rubble and wept. Ever since her stupid brother had been exiled, she had known at some level that if she was to become Fire Lord, she would have to marry some man and bear heirs to the throne. It didn't matter what her personal desires and preferences were. But on the night of her coronation, for the first time, the full impact of it hit her.  
  
She had cried because she couldn't truly imagine herself marrying some nameless, faceless man, and bearing an heir and a spare. She had cried because the only girl she had (foolishly) envisioned at her side had betrayed her.  
  
At the time, Azula had consoled herself with the thought that at least her marriage would be in five years, perhaps, or even ten. That would give her time to prepare herself. She hadn't thought that it would happen now. They want her to marry now, and give the Fire Nation a legitimate heir as soon as possible, to make sure that there is no chance of Zuko having a child and arguing that his brat has a claim to the throne. _Within a year would be ideal_ , Li and Lo had told her, during the _giving the Fire Nation a legitimate heir_ part of the discussion.    
  
She is _fifteen_.  
  
Admiral Chan's older son, her proposed match, is thirty. Twice her age. Her father had assured her that Captain Chan Li is able and honorable, but her father's word means as much as dirt, really. She trusts the palace cat more than she trusts him. For all that she knows, her father and Admiral Chan could even be colluding to have this Chan Li murder her, so that her father can take the throne again.  
  
Azula can feel her chest growing tight at the thought, panic gripping her like a vice. She pushes herself up into a sitting position, and forces herself to take several deep breaths. In and out, in and out. She can't seem to stop her shoulders from shaking.  
  
It feels like it takes hours for the feeling to pass; for her vision to clear again and her thoughts to regain some semblance of order. Azula rakes her fingers through her hair, focusing on the scrape of her nails against her scalp. She is being ridiculous. The idea that anyone could murder her is preposterous. Her guards are competent, and more than that, she is more dangerous than any assassin. Or any son of Admiral Chan's.  
  
Azula takes another deep breath, and exhales slowly, treasuring the sense of fragile calm that settles over her. Everything is going to be all right. It has to be. The spirits have always favored her, after all. That is why she was chosen to rule. If Captain Chan Li is truly a tolerable, decent man and a worthy consort, that will be excellent. If not - if he is an idiot like his younger brother, or worse…  
  
Accidents can happen. The capital of the Fire Nation is a dangerous place, after all.  
  
Azula consoles herself with the thought, holding it as close as she had once held her stuffed dragon, until she finally falls into a restless sleep.  
  
-  
  
  
  



	2. Part 2

"What is this?"  
  
When he slams the closed parchment on the low table between them, his mother winces. His father just stares at it, face as blank as smooth water. "Now, Chan Li," he says, voice a low warning. "Show some respect. You will not talk to us in this manner underneath our own roof."  
  
Chan Li takes a deep breath, and then bows his head respectfully. "I apologize," he says formally, lowering his voice. "I was just…surprised, when this arrived on my ship."   
  
_Surprised_ was an understatement. He had read the letter three times, convinced that he was misunderstanding something crucial. The next day, against orders, he had ordered the helmsman to turn his ship around and direct it back to the Fire Nation.   
  
After a few moments, his father shrugs, the casual gesture looking incongruous on him. "I don't see why it caused you any confusion. I made myself clear. Your betrothal to Fire Lord Azula will be finalized in a month's time."  
  
The words take a second to register. Twenty different things come to mind, foremost among them the question of how his parents could have arranged his own marriage without consulting him. More importantly--  
  
"She's even younger than Chan," Chan Li says, somewhat weakly. Even a week after reading the letter, the shock is still fresh. "I can't marry her. It would be inappropriate. Why didn't you suggest Chan instead?"   
  
Admiral Chan scoffs. "Don't be ridiculous. I couldn't offer a younger son to the Fire Lord's daughter - the Fire Lord," he amends hastily. "Chan is still a student. He has no rank."  
  
"He'll graduate in a year," Chan Li argues. "I'm sure he'll achieve the rank of Captain, the same as I have." A lie. His younger brother's grades are so abysmal that he will have to start as a Lieutenant, but surely his parents aren't aware of that.    
  
His mother takes a sip of her tea. "The Fire Lord needs an heir as soon as possible," she says, calm and matter-of-fact. "By the time a year has passed and your younger brother graduates - providing you marry soon - you could already have given her one."   
  
"Exactly." His father gives him a sanctimonious little nod. "You should be happy. You should be _grateful_." He glances around the sitting room of the family estate cautiously, and lowers his voice. "This isn't just about the wealth, Chan Li. We have no need for the money. Fire Lord Azula may be a firebending prodigy, but when it comes to leadership of the country, she is inexperienced. She is the youngest Fire Lord in over a century."   
  
His father stares at him, and Chan Li returns his gaze evenly, refusing to pick up on the implication. "They say that she is even more brilliant than her father. I'm sure that she will be a capable ruler."  
  
Admiral Chan shakes his head. "I doubt it. Besides, there are certain rumors…" He trails off delicately. "In any case, this is the opportunity of a lifetime."   
  
When he remains silent, his father continues, in a not-so-gently prodding tone. Spelling it out for him, as if he just celebrated his third birthday, instead of his thirtieth. "This match puts you in the position to influence the ruling of the Fire Nation."   
  
"No," Chan Li returns coolly. "This puts _you_ in the position to influence the ruling of the Fire Nation." His father doesn't even have the grace to look ashamed, or to deny it, and he shakes his head. "I've told you a hundred times that I have no interest in entering politics."  
  
His father's fingers tighten around the handle of his teacup, until his knuckles turn white. "You should be thanking me on bended knee," he hisses, the calm, disciplined facade finally cracking. "You're going absolutely nowhere in your career. You're thirty years old, and still a captain. Even with the family connections, your chances of being promoted to Commander - let alone succeeding me as Admiral - are low. Do you even understand what this marriage means for you?"  
  
Chan Li feels himself flush with anger. "I'm not--"  
  
"You'll be the Prince Consort of the Fire Nation. Your descendants will be the future rulers of this nation." His father raises his voice, talking over him, as usual. "A thousand men would give their left arm for this position, and you throw all my hard work in negotiating this match back in my face!"   
  
"This is not about you!"   
  
It is the first time he has raised his voice to his father in more than ten years, and an unbearably heavy silence falls over them. His voice seems to echo in the room, and the only noise is the inappropriately light, cheerful sound of his mother's metal wind chimes, clanking in the open window.   
  
"Of course," Admiral Chan deadpans. "This is not about the permanent advancement of our entire family. This is just about you, Chan Li, and your feelings about not wanting to marry the most powerful woman in the entire Fire Nation." He leans close, his face twisting into a scowl. "I have already given my word to Prince Ozai. If you back out on this, you will bring shame and disgrace upon us, and your younger brother. The royal family never forgets a slight."   
  
When he was a child, and his father had yelled at him, his throat would close up, and he would break into a sweat, his entire body growing hot. More than twenty years later, that hasn't changed, and the shame is too much to bear. Chan Li props his elbows on the table, ignoring every admonishment his childhood etiquette tutors had ever heaped on him, and buries his head in his hands.    
  
"It will be for the best," his mother pleads, breaking the silence. "You never wanted to serve in the Navy, after all. Marriage to the Fire Lord will relieve you of those duties, and the duties of the Royal Consort aren't too challenging. Just say yes."  
  
As if there is a real choice. As if saying no won't precipitate a massive family crisis. His mother's words are an eerie echo of the ones she had spoken so many years ago, during the last real fight between him and his father.  
  
Chan Li shakes his head.  
  
"Yes," he says, just as he had last time.


	3. Part 3

Two hours before Azula is to meet her betrothed for the first time, she swallows a draught of ginseng and ginkgo, the most potent brew that the royal physician has to offer. She hasn't been sleeping well lately. Her waking hours are dominated by work, half of the nighttime hours are as well, and her mind won't let her sleep during the few hours that she has free.  
  
As much as she dislikes substances that alter the consciousness, she needs this, to combat her fatigue and sharpen her focus. Her first impressions are always correct, after all, and today, her analytical powers have to be at their sharpest.  
  
The draught has taken effect by the time Azula settles herself on her throne. Her face is warmed by her wall of flames. Despite her nervousness, it is second nature to school her expression into the flawlessly impassive one she always wears, whenever she sits here.   
  
Admiral Chan and his family arrive exactly on time, a good sign, and Azula surveys them discreetly as they are announced. She has met Admiral Chan and his wife, Lady Suyin, before, at court. Of course, she had met Chan (and set his house on fire) the previous summer, on Ember Island. To her pleasure, Chan looks distinctly white-faced and queasy in her presence.   
  
Admiral Chan and his two sons approach her, sinking to their knees in front of the throne, and bowing their heads with the appropriate amount of respect. Azula parts the flames and descends from her throne. "Rise," she orders.   
  
The resemblance between Captain Chan Li and his younger brother is apparent at once. Chan Li is taller, though, and slightly broader, and Azula glances at his face, rapidly cataloguing what she sees. His face is pleasant and weather-beaten - so unlike most noblemen, with their soft, carefully moisturized and scented skin. He has a scar on his chin and smile lines around his mouth. His eyes are gray and she sees some nervousness in them, but not fear, arrogance, or anything untoward.   
  
Somewhat belatedly, Azula offers her hand, as she had been taught to do. When Chan Li kisses it and then bows to her, she can feel that his hands are warm and dry, palms heavily calloused from handling weapons and firebending.  
  
Azula watches and listens carefully, her mind ticking away, as Admiral Chan begins droning on, and Chan Li formally introduces himself to her. Chan Li doesn't look old. There are no strands of white or gray in his black hair, tied back in a topknot. He looks handsome, certainly impressive enough to be a royal consort, in his formal uniform. Most importantly, he does not strike her as a stupid fool or a coward - or, worst of all, a lecherous degenerate.   
  
There is some intelligence in his eyes. Not as much as she would have liked, but enough that he won't be totally useless, Azula suspects. There is a very healthy amount of respect in Chan Li's expression, speech, and body language, and that is an essential quality in everybody she must surround herself with. There is a softness to him as well, something almost intangible, in the way he speaks to and looks at his family, and even at her. It's a bit unsettling.   
  
All of it taken together is a strange bundle of attributes, not at all the ones she would have chosen in a potential consort. Azula watches Chan Li speak to her father, and listens to their conversation very attentively. Suddenly, she fights the urge to smile. Unfounded optimism is dangerous, but for the first time in months, it seems as though something is going right. It certainly isn't as bad as it could have been.   
  
The actual betrothal ceremony passes quickly. Her father is there, of course, and overly friendly with Admiral Chan. It is clear where her future father-in-law's loyalties lie. The two of them will have to be watched carefully. It is this that occupies Azula's thoughts as Lady Suyin presents her with a set of priceless gold and jade jewelry, and the Fire Sages begin to perform the necessary rituals. She can't guess what her betrothed is thinking, but he looks very solemn, his hand steady in hers.   
  
The celebration that follows the betrothal is exceptionally long and tedious. The dinner, as fine as it is, brings Azula no joy. Admiral Chan and her father immerse themselves in deep discussion, and they draw Chan Li in, before long. When he glances at her and tries to ask her opinion about what should be done to rebuild the destroyed southern countryside, her father actually talks over her - as if she were nothing more than a child, or Zuko - and offers his own suggestions instead.  
  
Chan, being slightly less stupid than the average hog-monkey, cannot participate in the political conversation. He busies himself with eating massive portions of wine-soaked shrimp, enough that he will surely be sick by midnight. Lady Suyin tries to engage her in conversation, and Azula tries to respond, but the utter lack of common ground between them becomes apparent halfway through the main course.  
  
The rest of the hall is filled with every person of political significance currently residing in the capital. It is unbearably loud and too warm, and the sound of the laughter and chatter sets her teeth on edge. It is terribly common of her, but Azula can feel herself sweating beneath her expensive robes. Ever since her coronation, she has hated dining in company. It does nothing but make her all too aware of how alone she is, even in the most crowded rooms.  
  
The light touch on her elbow almost makes her jump right out of her seat, and Chan Li draws back immediately. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he says, in an undertone. Then, he does the last thing Azula had expected, and offers her a plate of oysters with plum sauce. "I, uh, I thought you might not like the shrimp. You hardly touched it. This tastes much better."   
  
Azula stares at the plate for a second, taken aback, before she remembers her courtesies and forces a smile. "Thank you."  
  
Chan Li looks almost as awkward as she feels. Before his father draws him back into the conversation, he pats the arm of her chair, as if he had wanted to pat her hand, but thought better of it.  
  
Thankfully, there is no dancing after dinner. Only socializing, which is a fresh torment. She isn't like this normally - she's not like the traitor Mai, freakishly reclusive and unbearably socially stunted. It's just that she would rather be in the middle of a four-against-one Agni Kai than in a room stuffed to the brim with men loyal to her father.   
  
It is late before Azula completes the necessary social obligations and finds her betrothed again. He is standing at the edge of the room, amidst a group of people his own age, laughing and talking. _Friends,_ she realizes, and it tastes even more bitter than the wine. It looks like it comes so naturally to him, and in that instant, she finds that she already hates him a little.   
  
Azula turns and walks away, trying to melt back into the crowd. Chan Li manages to catch sight of her, though, and he's at her side within a few moments. "Fire Lord," he says respectfully. "May I introduce you to my--"  
  
"Not now." Azula glances over at the nearby entrance to the courtyard, savoring the breath of fresh air that stirs the silken curtains. "Come with me."  
  
Chan Li follows her without question, and she is sure that nobody notices the two of them slip out to the courtyard. It is blissfully quiet and still outside, the air scented faintly with orchids, and not incense, perfume, cologne, and alcohol. "These gardens are lovely," Chan Li comments, after a few moments. "We could sit here."  
  
"Not so close," she replies, looking over her shoulder, to make sure they are not being followed. "The walls of the palace have ears. It is very important that you remember that."  
  
Chan Li hesitates, and mumbles something almost inaudible about propriety. Azula rolls her eyes and leads him farther into the courtyard, until the lanterns and torches in the hall are nothing but a dim, distant glow. The pavilion is dark, and she lights the torches with one effortless sweep of her hand.  
  
They face one another, standing a respectable distance apart and taking each other in. "Are you afraid of me?" Azula asks, and for once, she is genuinely interested in knowing the answer. His younger brother could have told him all manner of things, though she suspects that Chan would be too terrified to open his mouth.  
  
Chan Li appears to think it over. He doesn't seem offended by the question, and in that, he passes one small test. "No," he says, at last. "You are formidable, but fear is not a good foundation for a relationship."  
  
The words almost make her flinch. _I love Zuko more than I fear you._  
  
"No," Azula replies, turning away, and studying the nightingale perched in the nearby hedge. "I suppose it isn't."  
  
They stand in silence for a while, broken by Chan Li's occasional uneasy shuffling. "I apologize," he blurts, at last. "I know that this isn't what you would have wanted. An engagement between you and my younger brother would have been much more appropriate. He's only a year older than you. I spoke to my parents regarding the matter, but they disagreed."  
  
Azula reaches out and snaps a flower from its stem, absentmindedly sniffing the petals, before turning to face him. Chan Li is rather red in the face and looks miserable. "I am touched by your consideration, but I disagree with the idea that your brother and I would be better suited for one another," she replies calmly. "I've met him before. Maybe you can ask him for the full story sometime. I think I might have thrown myself off the roof of the palace before our first anniversary."  
  
She sweeps a few particles of dust from her robes, sits on the stone bench, and tilts her face up to Chan Li. "So I'm not interested in hearing about him. Tell me about yourself. Tell me why you are an asset to me - if you are one at all."  
  
He accepts the challenge with more composure than she had expected. Instead of sitting beside her, he kneels in front of her, and he is still tall enough that their eyes are nearly level. Azula holds her hand out to him, and Chan Li takes it. It isn't the romantic gesture that it looks - with their hands intertwined like this, she will be able to feel his pulse change, in case he tells a lie.  
  
"My family has always been loyal to yours. The royal family granted us our title and lands…"  
  
"Six hundred years ago, after one of your ancestors sacrificed his life to guard one of mine." Azula inclines her head. "I remember the history lessons."  
  
Chan Li remains quiet for a few moments. "But there are many noble families in the Fire Nation that have long-standing ties to yours. The one thing I can promise you is that I know the one person I owe my loyalty and my service to."  
  
Azula raises an eyebrow, and after a nervous swallow, her future husband perseveres. "I would be honored to be your ally. Not your family's. Not you and your father's. Yours."  
  
"I can't deny that that sentiment sets you apart from almost everybody else at court, including your own parents. They're already trying to get you in my father's good graces. I can only imagine how shocked they would be to hear you now." Azula looks at him carefully. "Are you doing this just to defy them?"  
  
Chan Li hesitates, before deciding to give her a truthful answer. "My father sought to use me as a pawn, to advance his own ambitions through this match. I do not like being used."  
  
"Mmm," Azula observes. "How contrary of you."  
  
"That isn't my sole reason for this. With all due respect, Fire Lord, your father was an imperfect ruler in many ways." Chan Li traces his fingertip along the lines of her palm, frowning. "People keep commenting on your youth, but there's nothing childlike or inexperienced about you. Your ideas for lifting the nation out of bankruptcy are bold and innovative. It seems that a lot of the resistance only exists because…" He trails off sheepishly.  
  
"Because the ideas are coming from not just a fifteen-year-old, but a fifteen-year-old girl." Azula feels her insides curl in disgust. The Fire Nation has always prided itself on its women and men having more equality than the Earth Kingdom and the Water Tribes. Of course, all of those noble ideals fall to pieces in the Fire Nation Capital, and in politics and in the military.  
  
"My instinct tells me that everybody else will come around, in time. They can only resist change for so long." Chan Li looks up at her. "Until then, I would be honored if you could count me as one of your allies."  
  
Azula makes a soft, noncommittal noise in the back of her throat, and withdraws her hand from her betrothed. He actually isn't lying, despite her initial suspicions that this could have been a setup engineered by her father. If anything, this is proof of the spark of intelligence she had noted earlier. Chan Li had accurately seized on the tension between her and her father, and he had chosen to support the victor early.   
  
"I don't trust easily," she tells him, folding her hands in her lap. "If you are to become a member of the royal family, you will soon learn that trust is for fools. Fear is the only reliable way. I suppose that may not work in our situation, though, so you will have to earn my trust."  
  
Chan Li smiles a little. It is tinged with some sadness, and for the first time, Azula realizes that this may not have been what he wanted, either - entering the lion-serpent's den that is politics and the royal family, and doing it at the side of someone even younger than his own brother. "I expected as much."   
  
Azula stands, tugging him to his feet. "Come," she says. "We should get back. We don't want anyone to think that we're doing anything improper, now, do we?"  
  
This time, Chan Li offers her his arm, and she takes it.  
  



	4. Part 4

The month following the betrothal ceremony passes with an unnatural speed that leaves Azula glaring at the calendar every morning and every evening.   
  
Three days before the wedding, Azula wakes up early, and stays out on the firebending courts twice as long as she usually does. After a lengthy session alone with her own fire and lightning, she normally feels calmer. Cleansed. Today, it doesn't do much for her, and neither does her cool, jasmine-scented bath.   
  
The Fire Lord picks at her breakfast, unable to eat more than a few bites of the eggs and toast. She can't keep herself from glancing repeatedly at the clock on the wall. The servants are due to arrive in less than half an hour, bringing Chan Li's things into her rooms.  
  
She feels strange about the idea of him sharing her personal space. The last time she had shared living space with anybody had been with Ty Lee and Mai, during their travels across the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation.   
  
Her chest grows tight at the thought, and the toast turns to ashes in her mouth. Azula swallows over her dry throat, pushing the platter away from her, and taking a shaky sip of her tea. Ideally, she would have put Chan Li somewhere else. The traditional quarters of the Royal Consort are on the other side of this wing. She had been tempted to send him there instead, but that won't do. Although he has made a decent impression on her so far, she still wants to keep an eye on him.   
  
The knock on the door jolts her out of her thoughts, and Azula's entire body tenses up. It takes her a moment to recover her composure. "Enter," she calls, rising.  
  
It is the servants, wearing the insignia of Chan Li's family, and bearing his possessions. Her own servants had offered to oversee their placement - but honestly, do simple peasants have any sense of interior design or feng shui? They do not. And so she had chosen to stay.   
  
Chan Li's servants are appropriately respectful, and they aren't as dim as many who work in the Royal Palace. Azula directs them, supervising with a critical eye. Her betrothed's wardrobe comes in first. His clothes are simple and comprised of shades of muted dark red, gray, and black. There is none of the ostentatiousness that she sees in so many other nobles, who clothe themselves in gold and bright, blood-red silks.  
  
Azula raises an approving eyebrow when the next batch of servants enter, carrying wrapped swords, and several other weapons. As much as the initial, instinctive impression of a male Mai almost makes her cringe, it is good that Chan Li has some skills other than being a Navy Captain…and whatever else it is that he does. As sad as it is, she wouldn't have put it past her father to saddle her with some sort of imbecile.   
  
Four servants come in next, panting and dragging two large trunks between them. "What is this?" she asks, stepping back. "If these are books, I can direct you to the study."  
  
"No, Fire Lord," one of them says, bowing deeply. "These are Captain Chan Li's art supplies."  
  
 _Art supplies?_ Azula blinks, momentarily taken aback. Art is a lady's pursuit. However, she supposes that it is slightly better than drinking and gambling, two traditional masculine pursuits. As eccentricities go, this is benign. She gestures toward the study dismissively. "The study is to your left. These may go in there."  
  
It doesn't take long for the servants bearing the art supplies to get into an argument with the servants bringing in the books about how everything should be placed. Azula is forced to step into the plebeian scuffle and explain everything to them in short, simple sentences, pointing at various corners of the room to illustrate her meaning. She had thought dealing with her council had been irritating.  
  
In the middle of all the barely contained chaos, there's a hardly-audible knock on the study door. Azula looks up to see Chan Li carefully navigating his way through the awful mess on the floor. "Good morning," she says. Because she never quite knows what to say around men who aren't guards, servants, or soldiers, or old and on her council, she gestures randomly at the first bunch of paint supplies that she sees. "Those are lovely colors. Such a vibrant shade of purple. It's like one of those giant poisonous frog-snakes."  
  
The second the words leave her mouth, Azula is struck with the desire to throw herself out of the nearest window. _Such a vibrant shade of purple_. This is Chan and that _sharp outfit_ incident all over again. It must be something that runs in the family.   
  
Chan Li doesn't seem put off by her analogy. He bows to her, takes her hand, and kisses it. "Thank you. I apologize for the inconvenience of all of this--"  
  
But that is when she notices the absolutely hideous, enormous beast trying to hide behind him. It is grey, with floppy jowls, and it pants and drools at the same time. An abnormally long pink tongue flops out of its mouth, visible between yellowing teeth. Azula snatches her hand out of Chan Li's and backs away hurriedly. "What is that?" she asks, horrified. "Did that follow you in from outside? Why didn't you dispose of it?"   
  
Her guards step forward as one, but Chan Li clears his throat, looking at her and then the guards reassuringly. "It's all right. The dog is mine."  
  
The words take a few moments to register. "Your dog?" Azula asks warily, daring another look at the thing. It stares at her leg, panting in a disconcerting, repetitive way. "This…belongs to you?"  
  
Chan Li reaches down and pats it on its surely flea-infested head. "He does. His name is Rao, and he's lived on my ship for the last three years."  
  
He's actually smiling at the animal, looking genuinely happy. Azula nods, feeling somewhat dazed. This entire morning feels like an indeterminably long, vague nightmare. "And you intend to keep it here? In these rooms?"   
  
"Of course." Chan Li's smile fades a little, when he sees the expression on her face. He leans down and takes her hand, and Azula almost jumps at the unexpected touch. "Don't worry, Fire Lord. I know his size is intimidating, but he's completely tame. He won't hurt you."  
  
Meanwhile, the dog looks at her, and continues to huff and puff. It looks dim, rather like Zuko.  
  
Azula scoffs. "I'm not _afraid_ of him," she says, giving Chan Li a disdainful look. In contrast, the dog sits at his feet, staring up at him with an expression that is downright worshipful. "Must you have him here? I'm sure that we can work out an alternative arrangement. Perhaps the animal can have an apartment of its own." _Zuzu's former rooms should do._  
  
Chan Li frowns. "But he's an extremely useful guard dog," he says hastily, with the air of someone grasping at straws. "I'm certain your guards are competent." He nods at the men standing on either side of the door. "But in the event that someone makes their way into our rooms…"  
  
Azula tenses up, despite herself. "He would protect you," Chan Li says. At that, the dog hauls itself to its feet with considerable effort, and resumes drooling on the carpet.  
  
"Really," Azula replies, unconvinced. "Guard," she says, without turning around. "Use your firebending to attack me."  
  
She hears the surprise in his voice, and the hesitant stammer. "Fire Lord, I couldn't possibly--"   
  
Azula rolls her eyes at the wall. "Just do it. I won't retaliate. _Now_."  
  
She hears movement behind her, the sound of a fist being drawn back for a strike. Before the air behind her can even grow warm with fire, the dog charges at him, moving with surprising speed. Azula hears a thud, and then snarling.  
  
She turns to see the guard on the floor, the dog standing on his chest and growling in his face. "Rao!" Chan Li calls. "Back."  
  
The dog retreats warily, returning to his side. Chan Li pats him on the head, before walking over and offering the guard a hand up. Then Chan Li looks over at her, the look on his face a mixture of proud _I-told-you-so_ and _please, please, please let me keep him._  
  
"Very well," Azula says grudgingly. "The dog can stay. But it cannot get on the furniture, and pointless noises absolutely will not be tolerated. Furthermore…" - she wrinkles her delicate nose - "We must do something to freshen its breath."  
  
She says she has a meeting to go to, and then leaves abruptly, ordering her guards to "prevent things from becoming too unsightly." Chan Li breathes a sign of relief, and then leans down and pats Rao on the head. "She'll warm up to you," he says. "I'm sure of it."   
  
Rao licks him on the hand, as if assuring him of the same thing.


	5. Part 5

Aside from the expenses, planning a royal wedding isn't normally too difficult. There is a strict protocol that must be followed to the letter. It dictates everything from the color scheme (red and gold, always), to the number of golden lanterns that must be hung in the courtyard. It lists the exact dishes that have to be served at the banquet afterwards, and the amount and types of flowers that have to be imported for the event.   
  
Azula hands all the preparations off to Li and Lo, and washes her hands of the matter. Despite her servants' never-ending excited chitchat about anything wedding-related, she can't be bothered. All of this is a distraction. She would be happy to just have a small, private ceremony, with only herself, Chan Li, and the officiating Fire Sage in attendance, but when she had suggested it, she had thought Li and Lo were going to drop dead from shock on the spot. They had been scandalized enough when she had insisted on wearing her ceremonial Fire Lord robes to the wedding, rather than a traditional wedding dress.  
  
"Are you sure about this, Fire Lord?" Lo had asked, bowing deeply. "We still have your mother's wedding gown, as well as her hair ornaments, and the gown can be altered to fit."   
  
Too late, she had remembered the Fire Lord's decree that Princess Ursa's name was never to be mentioned in the palace, and all the color had drained from her face. Lo stammered her apologies, but Azula had banished her to Ember Island anyway, leaving the burden of the wedding planning to fall on her twin sister.   
  
The afternoon before the wedding, Azula takes the most potent sleeping draught she  can find. Her servants wake her early the next morning, and for once, there are no dark circles beneath her eyes.  
  
They fuss over her, soaking her in a warm bath of oil and rose petals, and polishing her fingernails and toenails in shimmering gold. They massage lotion onto her legs, which are still slightly reddened from yesterday's torturous waxing at the royal spa. Azula feels slightly dazed as they dress her, comb her hair until it shines, and then pull and twine it into a complicated arrangement. It takes three servants to work on her makeup, since today calls for something more elaborate than her usual light coating of powder, red lipstick, and simple black kohl.   
  
Her dressing room is full, but it feels empty. At any noblewoman's wedding, her attending party is made up of her mother, aunts, female cousins, friends… There is nobody in this room that isn't being paid to be here. Yesterday, traditionally, she should have had a spa day and dinner with her attending party. She had spent the day in solitude.   
  
She can almost hear Mai telling her servants that the bridal eye makeup should be darker and more intense. She can imagine Ty Lee running around, alternating staring out the window at the decorated courtyard, with ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the vast array of blushes spread out on the makeup table. _Azula, how about this rose-pink? It suits you so well!_ And she can't even imagine what her mother would have been doing or saying, because her mother had left her when she was eight.   
  
Azula closes her eyes. Her head hurts. Her chest hurts, and she just wants this to be over.   
  
-  
  
The wedding ceremony goes off smoothly. Chan Li takes her hand when he sees her, and doesn't let go. He looks handsome in his ceremonial armor, and more than a little overwhelmed by the size of the watching crowd. That is the least of the things that phase her.   
  
The Fire Sage officiates. By the time the long and dull ceremony is officially over, all the rituals taken care of, and she and Chan Li seal their oath with a kiss, everybody in the royal pavilion - everybody Azula looks at, period - appears much happier. They are visibly satisfied, especially her father. Of course they find the idea of a Fire Lord with a royal consort more palatable than the idea of a single, female Fire Lord.    
  
 _Let them be content_ , Azula thinks, as she and Chan Li turn from the Fire Sage, to face the bowing crowd. They have no idea that this changes nothing. They have no idea what Chan Li had told her in the gardens, on the evening of their betrothal ceremony. Her father had thought to plant yet another loyal supporter of his at her side, but instead, he had given her an ally. Maybe not an exceptionally intelligent or valuable ally, but an ally nevertheless.  
  
Azula turns to her father and gives him her most radiant smile. Ozai nods at her indulgently, smug satisfaction practically radiating off him.   
  
"Thank you, Father," she whispers, as they proceed into the royal palace for the banquet. "I like this one."  
  
He rests his hand on her shoulder for a moment, and gives her a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "I told you that I would only choose the best for you."  
  
Azula exchanges a glance with Chan Li, walking at the side of his own father. "Oh, I think you did."   
  
  



	6. Part 6

Azula loathes dancing. A long time ago, her tutors had bemoaned her lack of interest in learning the so-called art. _You're so graceful, Princess Azula. So agile, so light on your feet. You can perform the most difficult of advanced firebending forms with ease. This should come naturally to you._  
  
Dancing is toothless, domesticated, docile. It is everything that firebending is not.   
  
Normally, at formal events, she will dance once or twice, just to get it over with. Tonight, at her own wedding banquet, she would have been content to suffer through it for hours, with everybody in the damned hall, if need be. The women with their too-strong perfume, and the men with their ugly beards and wine-soaked breath.  
  
But too quickly, the formal dinner and the hours-long party afterward are over, and she and Chan Li are being escorted back to her rooms by a full phalanx of guards. Her arm is in his, her hand tucked awkwardly into it. Beside her, he seems calm. _Of course_ , Azula thinks bitterly. Why wouldn't he be? He's a man, and older, anyway.   
  
Fragments of so-called "wisdom" that Li and Lo had once imparted to her, and discussions with Mai and Ty Lee, keep replaying in her head. Li and Lo had just told her to lie back and think of the Fire Nation. It was the same thing that she, Ty Lee, and Mai had learned at the Royal Fire Nation Academy for Girls, regarding their "womanly duties."  
  
In private, she, Ty Lee, and Mai had talked about it. _I heard that it hurts. A lot_ , Mai murmured, a look of distaste flickering across her normally expressionless face. Ty Lee leaned forward and blurted it all out way too loudly, prompting Mai to glare at her, and Azula to fling a pillow at her face. _I heard it makes a big mess!_  
  
The memory makes her chest hurt. _Go away_ , Azula thinks, to her former friends, the traitors. Even then, had their camaraderie been an elaborate deceit? Had Mai and Ty Lee already been conspiring against her? _I don't want you here. Get out. It's too crowded already._  
  
She almost orders the guards to take the long way to her rooms. Like the banquet and the dancing, like the whole wedding, the walk is over too soon. Careful to betray none of the sudden apprehension she feels, Azula takes Chan Li by the hand and leads him into the rooms that have been her own since the morning of her coronation. _This is my domain, and you are only here by my grace_. She hopes that the message rings loud and clear. The heavy wooden door closes behind them, the lock clicking automatically.   
  
Her domain has been transformed, in her absence. The servants had lit several candles, filling the room with warm golden light. There are deep red rose petals scattered on the bed. How cliche. Once, Ty Lee had told her an awful story about a couple of performers at her circus, who had put roses out on their bedroll, except whole - of course peasants wouldn't have the common sense to realize that was a terrible idea - and they got pricked by thorns in the most inconvenient places.   
  
Azula pushes the memory away, with difficulty. She can't think about Ty Lee now. Not with--  
  
She turns to face Chan Li. His complexion is decidedly redder than it had been a few minutes ago. "Lovely room," he says, gesturing around awkwardly.  
  
Azula doesn't dignify that with a reply. She holds her hand out to him, and he takes it in his own. After a moment of hesitation, allowing her to brace herself, Chan Li leans down and kisses her chastely, just as he had at the ceremony, with the entire court looking on.  
  
After a few tense moments, he puts a hand in her hair, trying to ease her closer. The touch is gentle and slow, and again, Azula had seen it coming. She hadn't meant to, hadn't decided to, but she resists, every muscle in her body freezing up.  
  
Chan Li pulls back at once. He squeezes her hand, and he looks as uncomfortable as she feels. "Don't be nervous," he says. "I--"  
  
"I'm not _nervous_ ," Azula snaps, and the flames in the candles flare. Typical arrogant male. "I've led armies. I conquered the city of Ba Sing Se. I'm not nervous about something that girls all over the world do without a second thought."  
  
"Of course," Chan Li stammers, taken aback by the vehemence of her reaction. "I'm sorry."   
  
There's something in his tone that tells her he hadn't meant to be patronizing, and Azula shrugs, looking away. "No," she says, and all of a sudden, she feels tired. Exhausted, down to the bone. "It's fine."  
  
She makes her excuses - something vague about freshening up - and stalks out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her, and stepping into her own private dressing room. Her throat tight and fingers clumsier than usual, Azula pulls the long steel pins from her hair, letting it cascade down from the rigid style that it has been forced into all day. It takes a considerable amount of effort, but she finally removes her formal robes.  
  
Shivering, she pulls on her usual red silk night robe, tying it at the waist. She's always found it comfortable, but tonight, she feels too exposed.   
  
Azula doesn't bother to take off her makeup. Faintly, she remembers getting dressed in her armor for battle, alongside Mai and Ty Lee. _Neither of your outfits provide any protection,_ she had said once, glancing at Mai's dark, thin robes, and Ty Lee's exposed midriff. _I'll order armor for you._  
  
They had refused. _Stupid girls_ , Azula thinks spitefully, forcing back the memory of all three of them putting on the uniforms and face paint of the Kyoshi Warriors. They had no sense. She should have known then.  
  
She smoothes her fingers through her hair, looking around the room, without knowing why, and her gaze lights on something out of place. Some servant with a brain in her head had actually left a bottle of wine and a single glass on the table in the corner. With undisguised eagerness, Azula makes her way over to the table, and pours herself a glass full to the brim of the dark red liquid.   
  
Normally, despite the temptation, she shuns any substance that dulls the senses and quiets the mind. Tonight, however, she can make an exception.  
  
Azula sniffs the glass of wine. Upon detecting no strange odor that might indicate the presence of poison, she tosses her head back and drinks the entire glass down in a few decidedly un-Fire-Lord like gulps.  
  
It's strong enough to make her sway where she stands, and made even more potent by her almost-empty stomach. It doesn't take long for the feeling of intoxication to start to set in. When it does, Azula smoothes her hair over the shoulder one last time, and returns to the bedroom.  
  
She finds Chan Li still in his ceremonial armor, as prim and proper as ever, standing with his hands behind his back. He is observing the wood carving on one of the bedposts, of all things, and he turns to her, startled. "Azula," he says, and she can tell that neither of them are used to the way her name sounds on his tongue yet.  
  
"Chan Li," Azula returns calmly. She stands on the tips of her toes, her fingers finding the clasp of his cloak, and she pulls him down to her for a kiss.  
  
-  
  
When Azula wakes, the next morning, there is a brief moment when she sees Chan Li sleeping beside her - sprawled out on his side, his hair a mess - and almost screams and calls the guards.  
  
Her memories of the wedding begin to return before she does that, thankfully. Pushing herself up into a sitting position sends blades of pain lancing through her skull, and Azula can't hold back a moan of discomfort. This is terrible, even worse than when she, Ty Lee, and Mai had gotten into Mai's father's wine cabinet a year ago. She gropes around blindly for her discarded robe, and finds it crumpled near the foot of the bed.  
  
Azula pulls her robe on and stands, with some trepidation. Contrary to what she had expected, she barely winces. She's been much more sore after her most rigorous training exercises. She pads over to the attached bathroom and closes the door, thankful for the privacy. This sounds absurd, even in the privacy of her own mind, but she hadn't quite realized that Chan Li was going to be around all the time. In theory, he is going to be the last person she sees before going to bed, and the first person she sees upon rising, for the rest of her life.   
  
At least he isn't hideous. It is small consolation.   
  
On the way out, Azula glances into the mirror. Her hair is a tangled mess, her makeup smudged, and she frowns at her reflection. Normally, she never goes back to sleep after rising, but it's before sunrise, and she doubts going outside to firebend is an option.   
  
She slips back into bed, lying down and trying to relax, her back to her sleeping husband. At least she can't recall too much of what happened last night, because what she can is making her blush. Azula turns her face against the pillow, pressing her flushed cheek against the cool silk. She remembers running her hands over Chan Li's bare, muscled arms, noting that he felt different from anything she had ever known before (from Ty Lee's slender limbs), while he kissed her neck.   
  
She remembers being on her back, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. Her grip had left marks. Azula had turned her face away from his, stretching in discomfort, when he tried to stroke her hair reassuringly. _Are you all right?_  
  
 _I'm fine,_ she managed. _Don't stop._  
  
She hadn't expected it, and hadn't really wanted him to, but afterward, when they lay near each other, breathing hard, Chan Li had leaned over and kissed her. He cupped her face in his hand, brushing his thumb against her cheek, and then interlaced their fingers together.   
  
Nothing that had happened last night had been objectionable or degrading, the way Azula had secretly feared it might be. Every touch and kiss had been gentle, even careful. Chan Li had treated her with the respect she deserved.   
  
Still, the experience was an uncomfortable one. It had been much too intimate.   
  
Azula smirks humorlessly, even as her eyelids begin to feel heavy with sleep again. So far, this has been one of her most challenging duties as Fire Lord. How unexpected.  
  
-  
  
The next time Azula wakes up, it is to a loud thud. She jerks upright, pushing her hair out of her face, and has a massive fireball in the palm of one hand before her vision even fully clears.  
  
When it does, she sees Chan Li, simply dressed for the day, standing near one of the tables and holding a tray of breakfast. "Sorry," he apologizes, righting the book he had knocked over. "I didn't mean to wake you."  
  
"It's fine," Azula replies awkwardly, curling her fingers into a fist, and extinguishing the flame. Ridiculously, she's suddenly conscious of her messy hair, and the fact that she hasn't brushed her teeth or washed her face yet.   
  
"I have apple-cherry pastries," Chan Li tells her. He holds one up proudly, and it drops crumbly flakes onto the carpet. "Your servants told me you enjoy them."  
  
At least he is eager to please, which is appropriate, and Azula smiles, climbing out of bed. "Thank you," she says graciously.  
  
After she freshens up, they eat together. To her gratitude, Chan Li breaks the slightly nervous silence by bringing up the traditional honeymoon trip that they will take. "Where would you like to go?" he asks, pouring spicy sauce onto his eggs. "The jasmine and fire-lilies are in bloom on the islands at this time of year. It should be lovely. Ember Island has an excellent festival of flowers."   
  
Azula freezes for a moment, and the hand holding her glass of chilled water trembles. When Chan Li glances at her curiously, she forces herself to smile. "Any of the islands," she says, taking care to keep her tone light. "Except Ember Island."  
  
He looks like he wants to ask why, but obviously thinks better of it. "I understand," he says diplomatically.  
  
"I find that the island has become over-commercialized," Azula replies, turning her nose up. "I prefer a more exclusive, private environment."  
  
Chan Li doesn't look like he understands at all, but nods anyway. "True. Besides - I don't know if you've had any run-ins with them - but the eel-hornet hives on the north coast are getting more aggressive." He rubs the left side of his chest ruefully. "I still have a scar from the last time I was there."  
  
"Oh, so that's what that was."  
  
After some conversation, they decide to visit the Emerald Isle instead, leaving later in the day. Once they finish breakfast, Chan Li stands and stretches, and looks down at her curiously. Azula raises an eyebrow at him, wondering what he wants.  
  
"We have today for ourselves," he says tentatively. "What do you do in your spare time? When you're not busy with your royal duties?"  
  
Azula stands up, straightening her robe. The question bemuses her, and she tries to hide it. Spare time? The concept seems humorous. "I firebend. I have to keep my skills sharp."  
  
Chan Li looks at her, apparently waiting for more, and she shrugs. For a moment, she's at an utter loss. Throughout her life, when she hasn't been busy with her responsibilities as the Crown Princess, she has either been busy training, or spending time with Mai and Ty Lee. "And I read," Azula finishes, gesturing to the stack of books on the table.   
  
Chan Li smiles, appearing relieved by the presence of some common ground. "I do too. I can show you my library."  
  
She highly doubts that he has anything more impressive than the thousands of volumes that the royal libraries have to offer. To Azula's surprise, he holds his hand out to her, and after some hesitation, she places hers in his.  
  
She leads him to her study. Their study, now, in theory. Rao the dog is sleeping in the center of the room, flat on his side, his paws stretched out, like a large and particularly unsightly rug. Chan Li spares a moment to give the sleeping animal an overly sentimental look, before pulling a thick book out from the middle of his shelf. "Have you been following the Tsoi Guiren detective serial?" he asks excitedly, handing it to her.  
  
Azula frowns. "What?"  
  
She almost staggers, as Chan Li piles several more books, each heavier than the next, into her arms. "I just picked up the last two novels in a market in Fire Fountain City. And I actually got the first book in the serial signed by the author, when I ran into him in Anquing."   
  
He beams, evidently pleased with the accomplishment. She can barely see him, over the foot-high stack of books in her arms. It's fiction, Azula realizes, surprise mingling with her usual initial disdain of the unfamiliar. "I don't read fiction," she says, making her way over to the nearby desk, and depositing the books on it. "Just history, politics, and economics."  
  
Chan Li looks so puzzled that one would think horns had just sprouted out of her forehead. "Do you not like it?"   
  
"No, it's not that. I was never…" Azula bites the rest of the words back, turning away from him. She had never been allowed to read fiction. Those had been her father's orders, from the time she was a small child, just learning her letters. _You don't need your head filled with flights of fancy. Those will only distract you from your duties._ The first books that were ever read to her, when she had been a baby in her gold-wrought crib, were simplified histories of the Fire Nation royal family.   
  
Azula picks up one of the books, absentmindedly running her finger down the spine. "We have a long journey ahead of us, though," she says. "Perhaps now would be a good time to start."


	7. Part 7

Azula and Chan Li depart for the Emerald Isle the afternoon following their wedding. It is an unusually quick departure, but the sooner they leave, the sooner they can return.   
  
Azula refrains from voicing this sentiment to her new husband. It isn't that she doesn't want to spend time with him, but rather that the thought of leaving her father alone in the capital is threatening to give her an ulcer. She has her spies planted in his quarters and in his office, and they should let her know of any suspicious behavior, but still.  
  
She stares at the capital as the royal ship leaves the harbor, passing through the imposing sea wall. The weather is lovely, with cloudless skies and a brisk breeze, but that barely registers. She is plagued, instead, with nightmarish visions of her father sitting upon her throne, and turning the entire royal palace against her.   
  
Azula hears Chan Li's footfalls before she sees him come up beside her, leaning against the railing. "You haven't been on a vacation since your coronation, have you?"  
  
"No," she admits, refusing to think back to the last vacation she had been on. When Ty Lee, Mai, and Zuko had been at her side, and everything had felt so secure.   
  
Her expression must not have stayed neutral, though, because Chan Li pats her on the hand tentatively. "Don't worry. Everything will be okay."  
  
The meaningless platitude comes from a good place, essentially, so Azula bites back the scathing retort that had been on the tip of her tongue. She takes his hand instead, intertwining their fingers together. "So," she says instead. "Where are those books of yours?"  
  
-  
  
They spend hours reading on deck, Azula resting on a pile of silken cushions, and Chan Li sprawled out in a makeshift hammock, trying to relax, and failing. It feels strangely jarring to be on a ship, and not captaining it. To travel in such luxury, for leisure and in leisure, when for the past more than ten years, he has spent his life commandeering an undersized, understaffed military combat ship.   
  
Unsurprisingly, the Fire Lord seems as used to this as she does to leadership in her throne room, and orchestrating bloodless coups in the Earth Kingdom. Azula accepts coconut water and mango juice from the servants without even looking up at them, and coolly gives orders for when she would like their lunch and dinner to be prepared. It is almost an amusing sight - despite her normally flawless posture, the Fire Lord is hunched over her novel, her eyes rapidly scanning the pages from side to side.  
  
"Chan Li!" Azula snaps suddenly, straightening and fixing him with a terrible glare, and he is startled so badly that he almost slops mango juice down his chin.   
  
"I didn't mean to stare--" he begins hastily, but she waves it aside.  
  
"Never mind. Just tell me, does she survive?"  
  
It takes a few moments for the words to register, as well as the realization that Azula is now at the part of the book where the detective appeared to kill his nemesis with a cup of poisoned tea. "Uh," he manages. His etiquette teacher is probably frowning down on him from the Spirit World right now. Chances are that saying _uh_ to the Fire Lord is punishable by death. "With all due respect, I shouldn't…"  
  
Azula's glare threatens to bore a hole into his head. "I could command you to tell me, you know."  
  
Chan Li shrugs, a potentially disastrous idea taking root in his mind. "True. And I'm a very disorganized person, Fire Lord. I could lose the rest of the books in the series."  
  
Azula narrows her eyes in a way that lets him know he will pay for this later, before she hunches over the book again and begins to read at double her previous speed.   
  
-  
  
They reach the Emerald Isle late the next morning. Servants show them to a private, beach-side bungalow that is even more elaborate and lavishly decorated than anything his father had ever built, and Chan Li tries not to stare. Azula walks through the glass double doors, out of their suite and to the beach. She stands there for a long time, a strange expression on her face, looking far away. They have only been married for a few days, and known each other for just over a month, and he is already wondering how he will ever reach her. Even when the Fire Lord isn't sitting on her throne, behind her wall of fire, she seems so closed-off and remote.   
  
But it's still early, and she is a young woman in a very difficult situation, and after some hesitation, Chan Li walks out and joins her. "Fire Lord," he says respectfully, and she turns to face him. "Have you ever played kuai ball?"  
  
A slow smile spreads across Azula's face.  
  
-  
  
The four-round game ends with Chan Li lying flat on his back in the sand, out of breath, and with a possible concussion.   
  
Azula rushes over from her side of the court, falls to her knees beside him, and prods him hard in the ribs. "Wake up. Are you conscious?"  
  
Chan Li opens his eyes blearily, to find her staring down at him, puzzled and a little worried.   
  
"Ah, so you are conscious, then," Azula observes, wiping her hands on her skirt. "I apologize. That final maneuver with the ball may have been excessive force on my part."   
  
He is able to sit up on his own, though Azula takes his arm awkwardly. It's clear now that there had been no concussion, and the worst damage done will be a bruise on his forehead the next morning. Chan Li shakes his head in awe. "Did you ever play in a league?"  
  
"No. There was one at the Royal Academy for Girls, but Father wouldn't have wanted anything taking time from my firebending."   
  
Chan Li rubs his forehead ruefully, sensing a recurring theme in his conversations with her. In some sort of alternate reality in which she wasn't born into royalty, Azula would have made an excellent professional kuai ball player, or even an acrobat. She looks happier playing sports than she does anything else, now that he thinks about it. For once, she's not frowning or scowling. "You're quite the athlete."  
  
It definitely isn't meaningless flattery, and Azula preens at the compliment. "This was nothing. You should see me lava wrestle." She looks at him speculatively. "Are there pits here?"  
  
Chan Li has the distinct feeling that lava wrestling against Azula will lead to another ignominious loss, but he can't bring himself to mind too much. "I don't know, but we can find out."  
  
-  
  
After trekking through more than a mile of jungle to the lava pits, wrestling, returning to the bungalow and having dinner, and then submerging themselves in wonderfully cool baths (Azula had claimed the large one attached to their suite for herself, and sent him to the one on the opposite side of the house), Azula and Chan Li return to their bedroom to find the bed draped with rose petals, candles lit, and the lights extinguished.   
  
"They aren't even trying to be subtle," Chan Li says, sweeping the petals off his pillow. He is reminded of his mother's comment about how he and Azula could give the Fire Nation an heir in less than a year, before his younger brother even graduated from the academy, and he winces.  
  
Azula scowls at the bed and twitches her fingers, as if she is tempted to set it on fire. The two of them exchange one look before collapsing into bed on opposite sides from one another. Chan Li starts snoring softly the second his head hits the pillow, and for the first time since the incident at the Boiling Rock, Azula falls asleep easily as well.  
  
-  
  
The next several days are more entertaining than Azula had expected them to be. Chan Li proves himself to be a worthy and sufficiently entertaining companion in many endeavors, including rock climbing, rafting down the Jiulong river, and lava surfing.   
  
As the days pass, she develops a mild case of sunburn, as does Chan Li. The bruise on his forehead hasn't faded, growing more brilliantly purple every day.   
  
( _They're going to say I abused you_ , Azula complained, brandishing her face powder and makeup brush at him. _Come here and let me cover it up_.   
  
Chan Li neatly evaded her, moving to the other side of the dressing room. _Surely they don't think so little of you_ , he suggested hopefully.   
  
_Please. I'm sure they think I've made a blood contract with dark spirits, and I regularly sacrifice newborn babies to them._ )  
  
To make matters worse, just last night, she had sustained a painful tiger-crab bite to the sole of her foot. Discomfort aside, their trip to the Emerald Isle continues to be illuminating. Azula has always been exceedingly skilled in reading people, able to discern their weaknesses and their strengths, and everything that makes them tick, in one glance. This time alone with Chan Li has provided her with the perfect opportunity to conduct an in-depth study of her new husband.  
  
Her most notable finding had been that he is soft in almost every way, save for his muscles and his intelligence. He has a gentle heart. It is visible in the way he treats not only her, but everything and everybody around him. Even the servants, and creatures as insignificant as tiger-crabs and other animals.   
  
Not only is it disconcerting, such a thing is downright unseemly in a man. A man of the Fire Nation, no less, and a member of the royal family by marriage, if not by birth. Azula mulls it over at length, during what quiet time she has to herself. The obvious benefit to her is that Chan Li's kindness and soft-heartedness makes it less likely that he will be disloyal to her, or choose to betray her. Not _unlikely_ , of course, but less likely.   
  
For now, things are fine. Azula finds herself able to tolerate small intimacies like the way Chan Li had gently brushed apple-cake crumbs off her bottom lip this morning at breakfast, and the way he smooths healing salve over the sunburn on her back and shoulders. She reciprocates by straightening his ornamental hairpiece when it is crooked, and clasping his cloak on properly (as in, not slightly askew) when they dress for dinner. More importantly, she actually doesn't have to force himself to laugh at his jokes, which are sometimes so bad that they become good.   
  
On their last night on the Emerald Isle, Chan Li brings her ice cream after dinner. "Vanilla?" Azula asks, reaching for the crystal bowl. They've been sitting in the outdoor lounge every night. It's pleasant, sitting underneath the stars, with the breeze rustling the palm trees, and listening to the waves breaking on the sand.   
  
Chan Li nods, handing it to her. He likes eating ice cream from a sugar cone, although some of the ice cream always melts and runs down his hand. He also likes unusual flavors. The one he's holding today is pale green. "I thought about getting you the apple ice cream and telling you it was vanilla, since they're the same color," he admits, taking a seat beside her, and a giant, unflinching bite of his ice cream.  
  
Azula makes a face, as she takes a delicate spoonful of her dessert. "I'm shocked at such unprecedented deviousness. I'm glad you didn't. That would have been most unwise."   
  
"What would you have done?" he teases. "Fire Lords don't throw ice cream at their disobedient consorts."  
  
Azula turns her nose up. "The Fire Lord can do as she likes. What flavor is that, by the way? It looks awful."  
  
"Green tea." He offers it to her. "Would you like to try some?"  
  
The mention of tea makes her think of her stupid, traitorous uncle, and Azula leans away. "No, thank you. Perhaps if it was something sensible, like mint with chocolate chips."   
  
"This isn't too insensible. I visited one of my friends from the academy one summer before we graduated, and his parents had some sort of ice-cream making machine." Chan Li smiles at the memory. "We made bacon-flavored ice cream. And a batch of horseradish-flavored one, too, but not together."   
  
Azula gags. "You had standards, I see. That is disgusting. I think the oddest flavor I've ever had was seal-squid ink."  
  
"Where on earth did did you…?"  
  
"During my travels across the Earth Kingdom, when I was hunting for the Avatar." Azula's smile falters a little, and her last bite of ice cream doesn't taste too sweet in her mouth. Mai and Ty Lee had retched, threatened to stop by the side of the road and scrub their tongues out with leaves, and they had been incredulous when she had been able to finish her ice cream. _Really, ladies_ , she had said loftily. _I don't know what the two of you were so upset about. It wasn't that bad._   
  
Azula sets aside her empty bowl, wishing that she could discard the memories as easily. She distracts herself by answering Chan Li's questions about the Earth Kingdom - he's never ventured farther into the country than the Fire Nation-controlled harbors there. During a break in conversation, she narrows her eyes at his hand, which is covered in melted ice cream. "Every time," she comments. "You'll attract ants. You should really consider using a bowl instead."   
  
Chan Li responds by reaching over to ruffle her hair with his ice-cream covered hand. Horrified, Azula retaliates the only reasonable way she can, and slams him in the face with a cushion.  
  
"I suppose I deserved that," he replies, his voice muffled.  
  
"You did. Go wash your hands."  
  
He smiles at her when he comes back, his hands clean. Unsure of how to respond, Azula averts her eyes, and they sit in comfortable silence for a little while. Well, maybe Chan Li is comfortable. Her mind is buzzing with activity.   
  
She can have conversations with Chan Li now, and spend time with him, without feeling awkward. And she doesn't hate him, or find anything about his behavior or mannerisms repulsive. That is one obstacle cleared. But it's all very strange. She can look at him, and appreciate what she sees from an aesthetic standpoint, but… It doesn't make her _feel_ anything, and she doesn't know why.   
  
_Oh,_ a small, sardonic voice in her head speaks up. _You know why_.  
  
That won't do. Azula exhales slowly. Maybe she can force it, somehow. She has tried to feel that way for men before, but this is the first time that it has actually mattered. There is the line of succession to see to. Chan Li hasn't done more than kiss her on the top of her head since their wedding night, and she has the feeling that he isn't going to, unless he knows that she would welcome it.   
  
More than that, she is stuck with him for the rest of her life - assuming he doesn't get assassinated. They had sworn vows of fidelity and loyalty to one another. As long as he honors them, she must, as well. If she is going to be married to him for the rest of her life, then she has to find a way to work within this.  
  
Azula turns and looks at him. Chan Li doesn't seem to notice. He is looking at a lion-parrot perched in the branches of the tree above them. She takes in his features, a more mature, defined version of his younger brother's, his thick, unruly hair, always bound in a less-than-neat topknot, and the strong lines of his shoulders and arms.   
  
More out of curiosity than anything else, she prods him with her foot to get his attention first, and then leans over and kisses him.  
  
Azula feels him tense, surprised, for an instant, before he kisses her back. He tastes of ice cream, and his arms flex as he gently leans her against him. For all that kissing him doesn't ignite a fire inside her, or any blazing heat at all, Chan Li isn't worse at it than Ty Lee, or anything like that. He isn't aggressive or slobbery, two things that she had secretly feared. Kissing him is warm and pleasant enough, at least.  
  
They pull apart after some time, their noses still almost touching. Azula moves onto his lap, and Chan Li blinks, reaching over and tucking a stray strand of hair beneath her ear, his touch lingering. They haven't had a moment that could be called romantic, yet, but she thinks that this might qualify.  
  
"Is this strange for you, at all?" Azula asks softly.  
  
Chan Li sighs. "It is. Very. Please don't be offended," he says hastily, taking her hand and squeezing it. "I think you'll be exceptionally beautiful, when you're older."  
  
"Thank you. I think I would be more concerned if you found me desirable now, honestly." Azula traces her fingers against his collarbone. "If it makes you feel any better, your age isn't what bothers me."  
  
Chan Li looks like he's afraid to ask. "What is?" he ventures tentatively. "Were you in a relationship? Before?"  
  
Azula scoffs. "I thought I was. The person in question didn't seem to think so." There's no hiding the bitterness in her tone. "…But it was over before my coronation," she says. "You have nothing to worry about."   
  
Chan Li pats her knee awkwardly. "I'm sorry," he says, the apology genuine.   
  
"As am I. But it doesn't matter now." On impulse, Azula brushes her fingers against his hair. It's rough and tangled, unlike her smooth locks. Maybe she will lend him some of her hair products. "Have we reached an understanding?"  
  
Chan Li nods. He takes her hand, and holds it between both of his. "I hope that we can be happy," he tells her.   
  
It is hopelessly sentimental of him, and Azula has to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. "I hope so too." Suddenly, she's struck with something unpleasant, and she looks down at herself, trying to mask her anxiety. "You're not repulsed by me, are you?" She had always been torn between envying Ty Lee's figure and desiring it. Men had been flocking to Ty Lee since they were both fourteen, while they had never shown any interest in her.   
  
Chan Li looks startled. "Of course I'm not." Then he smiles, slow but steady. "I'm not significantly less attractive than whoever you dated before, am I?"  
  
"Not _significantly_ ," Azula replies, smirking to let him know that she is just teasing. "Just different."   
  
"I can live with that."  
  
She kisses him again, and Chan Li wraps his arms around her. After some time, they move inside, and what follows is an improvement on their wedding night, Azula thinks. For the first time, they fall asleep curled together.  
  
-  
  
  



	8. Part 8

They settle into a routine, in the time that follows their trip to the Emerald Isle. Azula decides to appoint Chan Li as the head of intelligence. The man currently occupying the post, Huan Gui, is so loyal to her father that he's practically in love with him. When she dismisses Gui, her father asks her about it, his displeasure obvious. She bats her eyelashes innocently and says that her husband deserves a position of some power.   
  
Chan Li performs his duties quietly and with enough competence. Azula can see that the transition from Navy Captain to Prince Consort is a difficult one for him to make, but he handles it with equanimity. There are certain things he doesn't understand, of course. He speaks to absolutely everybody he comes into contact with, from the lowest servant to the highest-ranking nobles of the court, in the same calm, measured, always-pleasant manner. And the royal court just isn't his natural environment. He lacks ambition, as well as a thirst for power.  
  
Some women might have found that infuriating, but not her. Chan Li knows his place, and he doesn't pose a threat to her, and Azula is thankful for that. On her sleepless nights, when she lies in bed beside him and stares up at the ceiling, she knows things could have been much worse.   
  
-  
  
On the first day of autumn, Azula leaves the throne room after nightfall. Instead of making her way back to her rooms, she takes a sharp right at the end of the hallway, and proceeds to the quarters of the Royal Physician. Her confident, purposeful stride betrays none of the reluctance she feels. She's been putting this off long enough.  
  
She finds Chan Li in the sparse, elegantly furnished sitting room. He rises when she enters, as he always does, and she inclines her head in acknowledgement. Before Azula can say anything more, the door to the examination area creaks open. Meilin, the absolutely ancient Royal Physician, shuffles out, immediately sinking into a deep, respectful bow. "Fire Lord," she greets. "Prince Chan Li. It is an honor to serve you."  
  
Azula lets Chan Li greet the old crone, and she watches the physician through narrowed eyes. The woman is almost as ancient as Li and Lo, and she has been the chief physician of the Fire Nation Royal Family for decades. She had attended at her father's birth, hers, and Zuko's. If only Meilin had enough sense to throw miserable baby Zuzu out with the bathwater, and save everybody the trouble of dealing with him later.   
  
To be completely honest, upon her coronation as Fire Lord, she had been tempted to banish Meilin. Her name is far too similar to Mai's, and Mai had proved herself to be a filthy traitor. After some time, though, Azula had reconsidered. Banishing Meilin would have meant appointing a new physician, and finding somebody trustworthy seemed near impossible, in times like these. Besides, Meilin has served the family loyally for over thirty years. The chances that she will turn against them now, in her old age, are slim.  
  
Still, she's leaning toward ordering Meilin to change her name to something less offensive. Just in case. Mingyu would be a suitable alternative.  
  
Mingyu is droning on, at the moment. Her reedy, paper-thin voice is as irritating as always. "The purpose of this visit is to ensure that both of you are ready to conceive, and will not face fertility issues…"   
  
Like some kind of irrepressible teenager, Chan Li raises his eyebrows at her, over the stooped, tiny physician's head. Azula scowls at him.  
  
"--And that you will bear healthy heirs to the Fire Nation, sound of body and mind."  
  
She's convinced that the physician's tone of voice changes at the last part. That there had been a subtle emphasis on the word _mind_ , coupled with the way Mingyu's eyes had lingered on her for a second too long.   
  
Azula tenses up, despite herself. "I assure you that both my husband and I are in impeccable health, physically and mentally."  
  
Her voice is too loud for the small room, and sharp enough that Chan Li visibly fights the urge to wince. The physician bows deferentially, tucking her hands into the sleeves of her loose, dark red robes. "I am sure you are," she replies, deliberately placating. "The two of you make a beautiful couple."   
  
Mingyu takes Chan Li into the attached examination room first, leaving Azula sitting outside. The chairs are rigid and high-backed, with no armrests, something that the traitor Mai always complained about. How she had hated to be unable to slouch and slump and glare at the world.   
  
Azula sits still, trying to calm herself. It's only after several minutes have passed that she notices herself picking at the tender skin of her cuticle, around the base of her thumbnail. She frowns at her hand, curling it into a fist. It's a vile, unseemly habit. When she had been young, her tutors had rapped her on the hand with an iron ruler when they caught her doing it. _Do you want to advertise your anxiety and neuroticism to the entire Fire Nation court?_ one of her tutors had sneered at her. _Take your emotions and express themselves on the practice fields_ , another, kinder one had advised, handing her a bandage for her thumb. _This won't do. You must reveal no weakness, Princess Azula._  
  
After a seemingly indeterminable length of time, Chan Li steps out of the examination room, looking proud of himself. The physician follows close behind him. "I am pleased to report that Prince Chan Li is in excellent health," she says, bowing her head. "His mild, even temperament is well-suited for a Consort to the Fire Lord."  
  
Chan Li seats himself next to her, doing a rather poor job of keeping a straight face. "Healer Meilin and I talked it over, and we decided that there's only a small chance of me passing the tail I was born with onto any future heirs to the throne."   
  
The physician stares at him, unamused, but Azula's lips quirk upward in a brief moment of levity. "I'd rather any child of ours have a tail than your sense of humor. Who knows? Maybe she could firebend out of it."  
  
-  
  
The examination room has remained unchanged since her childhood. For as long as Azula can remember, it has always been much too cold inside the sterile space. Unseemly, for a firebender.   
  
Mingyu gestures toward the weighing scale in the corner of the room. "Without the robes, Fire Lord, if you will."   
  
She knew this was coming. It takes some effort to shed the layers of clothing, and when her silk chemise comes off, leaving her in just her bindings, Azula hears the physician's quick, indrawn hiss of breath. Masking her irritation, she steps on the scale, and stands still, like a trained poodle-cat, while Mingyu notes her weight.   
  
"Low," the physician comments, at once. Before Azula can even step off, Mingyu passes her wrinkled, liver-spotted hand over her body - her slightly visible hipbones, ribs, and collarbones - fingers skimming her skin, in a way only Chan Li is allowed to do. Suddenly, Mingyu's hand closes on her upper arm, taking the diameter with her fingers, and Azula has to fight the urge to jerk away. _Don't touch me._ The words are almost out of her lips, before she bites them back.  
  
"You have become too thin, Fire Lord," Mingyu says critically. "This will hurt your ability to conceive." She steps back, looking at her impassively. "Are you eating regularly? Finishing least three full meals a day?"  
  
Azula forces herself to smile. "Of course."  
  
The lie comes easily, as they always do. The physician purses her lips nevertheless, as if she sees right through her. "In that case, now that you are entering your childbearing years, you should increase your food intake."   
  
_Eat more_. How ridiculous. _It's easy for you to say, when you don't live in fear of someone slipping poison into your food._ Azula's fingers itch to pull her robes back on. Even in her own rooms, she hates not having clothes on - armor, or her Fire Lord robes. Standing here like this, she feels so…light. Vulnerable.  
  
Without asking for permission, Azula steps off the scale and begins to dress. She nods at the appropriate intervals, in response to the subsequent mind-numbing lecture on how she should order her kitchen servants to begin preparing meals conducive to helping her gain weight and increase her fertility. Bone broth, liver, ostrich-horse eggs, spinach. Even if poison doesn't kill her, disgusting food will. She can bet ten thousand yuans that Chan Li didn't have to hear a patronizing speech like this one.  
  
"Fire Lord, I deeply apologize for this personal line of inquiry," Mingyu says, cutting into her reverie. "Are your monthly courses regular?"  
  
She weighs the pros and cons of lying, and ultimately decides against it. "No," Azula grudgingly admits, her eyes fixed on the painting of Mount Sozin, hanging on the opposite wall. "It happens every month or two. Sometimes two and a half." Personally, she would be content if the loathsome event disappeared from her life forever. But no, that would make her unable to be a good little brood mare, wouldn't it?  
  
The physician actually shakes her head disapprovingly. "That must be due to your weight. It is also common for women who are under stress to be irregular with their courses."  
  
This time, she can't help herself, and Azula's lips curl upward in a mocking smirk. "Are you going to suggest that I reduce my stress levels?"   
  
Mingyu doesn't even blink in response to the honey-sweet inquiry. "That is exactly what I recommend. I know that it defies tradition, but perhaps Prince Chan Li could take over some of your duties, or even your father, Prince Ozai."  
  
The words hit her like a slap to the face, and the insult cuts deeper, to her core. "No," Azula replies, through clenched teeth. It's tantamount to suggesting that she isn't capable to rule. Momentarily, she's tempted to open the door and call out to the guards, and have them drag Mingyu down to the dungeons.  "That won't be necessary."  
  
Something in her face warns the physician not to press the subject. Mingyu just stares at her with her beady, bird-like eyes. "Are there any other symptoms I should know about, Fire Lord Azula? Are you sleeping well?"  
  
"Sufficiently," Azula lies. After that last borderline-traitorous insinuation, she knows with certainty that she can't tell this woman anything. Regardless of her mental state, nobody can strip her of her crown and make her step aside, but she will _not_ be forced into becoming a shadow-puppet Fire Lord, letting Chan Li and her father rule the nation for her.   
  
Mingyu nods, making another note on her chart. "In any case, would you be interested in a calming draught? It's a special preparation meant to soothe anxiety and ensure a deep, dreamless sleep."  
  
"Really?" The second the question comes out, her voice betraying far too much interest, Azula curses herself for the accidental slip. She smoothes a lock of hair behind her ear with a steady hand. "I mean, it sounds too good to be true."  
  
Mingyu shakes her head, tottering over to one of the cabinets. She pulls the dark wooden door open, her fingers dancing in thin air, before plucking a small vial from the top shelf. "I provided this draught to your father, and your grandfather before him. Both of them swore by its effectiveness. Five drops diluted in liquid is all you need."  
  
The physician extends the vial to her, and every fiber of her being screams for her to take it, to reach out and grab it in her hands.  
  
Azula shakes her head, and takes a step backward. She offers Mingyu a brittle smile. "Thank you, but I prefer not to take anything that dulls the senses."  
  
-  
  
Azula and Chan Li walk back to their rooms in silence. _The walls have ears_ , her father had once told her, when she was young. She had passed the message on to Chan Li during their betrothal ceremony.  
  
Chan Li collects his dog from their study, interrupting the animal from his favorite activity - gnawing on moldering ox-rhino bones from the kitchen. The three of them make their way to the courtyard, where her husband occupies himself with the fairly unproductive pastime of throwing a stick for the dog to fetch.   
  
The night sky above them leeches the energy from inside her, and the light of the half moon provides none of the warmth and comfort of the sun. Azula sits in the grass, absentmindedly plucking blades of grass and tearing them in half.   
  
Chan Li is the one to break the silence, as usual. "I take it that your consultation with Healer Meilin didn't go well?"   
  
"Patronizing old goat," Azula mutters, before glancing up at him. "The healer, not you. And don't call her that."  
  
Chan Li pelts the stick, and Rao goes flying after it. He comes to sit beside her, and Azula tears up another blade of grass. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye, and surprisingly, a wave of resentment washes over her. If her cousin Lu Ten hadn't gone and gotten himself killed, he would have been close to Chan Li's age. He would have been the Fire Lord, instead of her, and everybody in the entire damned nation would have been happy about it. For the spirit's sake, sometimes she thinks her advisors and generals would prefer _Zuko_ to her.   
  
"You have no idea how hard it is," she says abruptly, her voice clipped. "To be a woman in a man's world. And a young woman, at that."  
  
"No," Chan Li responds, after a few moments. Rao trots up to them, the stick between his jaws. He tosses it again, and then turns back to her. "I can't begin to understand."   
  
Azula closes her aching eyes for a moment. The world is closing in on her, and her chest is growing tight. "They doubt me. They don't respect me as they should."  
  
"It's their mistake."   
  
The thing that she likes about Chan Li is that he is reassuring without being patronizing, and that she never hears a hint of manipulation behind his words. That reminds her of Ty Lee - but no, Ty Lee had been a traitor and had betrayed her in the end, and she hadn't seen that coming, either. (No wonder her countrymen doubt her ability to lead. She hadn't even been able to maintain the loyalty of her two so-called friends.)   
  
"You'll prove them all wrong," Chan Li says, oblivious to her train of thought.  
  
Azula takes a deep, steadying breath, trying to quiet the buzzing in her head. These are the bad thoughts. They lead her to a dark place, and she can't afford to go there right now. "After a few days," she begins, "visit the physician. Ask her for a vial of calming drought, enough to last several nights."   
  
Chan Li doesn't ask why. He takes her hand in his, and then kisses her on the cheek, and she lets him.   
  
-  
  



	9. Part 9

"There were ten messages on the walls of the city today," Azula tells Chan Li over dinner.   
  
He frowns, setting down his glass of wine. It is the same small serving he usually drinks with dinner, and Azula has been eyeing it ever since the servant brought it out. He holds the glass out to her, and after some hesitation, she shakes her head. "That's more than there have been so far."  
  
Chan Li expects her to chide him for stating the obvious, but Azula just massages her forehead, pushing her half-full plate away. "I sent a team out to re-paint the walls as soon as I heard. I don't know what use it is. I expect that the messages will be replaced by sunrise. The traitors are probably working on it right this minute."   
  
"Azula," he says, indicating the food remaining on her plate, a stark contrast to his clean one. She ignores him, settling back in her plush armchair and staring into the fireplace.  
  
Although this isn't good for her health, he understands her concern. The treasonous, seditious diatribes have been showing up on the walls of the city for weeks now, despite the regular nighttime police patrols. This isn't an isolated incident, as they had thought at first. Someone has been spreading dissent among the commoners - and on a large scale, as well, if the frequency of the messages and how they have appeared from one end of the city to another is any indication.   
  
"I'm sending the Dai Li through the city to restore order," Azula says suddenly. "I should have done it sooner. The operation will begin tomorrow, and I have a feeling we won't be seeing any more of this."  
  
Chan Li hesitates, trying to be diplomatic. "It is a good move, but it may be an unpopular one."  
  
Azula gives him a truly scathing glare. "Very well. I will do nothing, then, and wait for the commoners to storm the palace and kill us both."   
  
He sighs. "I just…"  
  
"I know." It's rare for her to initiate physical contact, but Azula reaches out and touches his hand. "Don't worry. It's not like I can get any more unpopular amongst everyone in this country, anyway."  
  
There is a definite note of bitterness in her voice, and Chan Li rises from his side of the table, trying to think of something he can do to comfort her. Azula stands as well, drawing her soft, plush red robe tighter around her frame. She looks distracted and unhappy, and if she were anyone else, he would hug her. They have been married for long enough that it would be reasonable to do so, but he isn't sure if she would like it.   
  
He pats her on the shoulder gently, and they walk into their sitting room and settle on the sofa. Rao looks up at him, and then stretches up, resting his face against his leg. Chan Li scratches the dog's ear absentmindedly. For a little while, aside from Rao's deep breathing, they are quiet. But then he remembers, and he can't hold back a groan.   
  
Azula nudges him with her outstretched foot. "What is it?"  
  
There is absolutely no point in lying to her and telling her it is nothing. He needs more men like her in the intelligence and interrogation department - people who have an eerie ability to spot untruths, large or small. "I meant to tell you earlier," he says. "Your father sent us an invitation for dinner in his rooms tomorrow."  
  
The almost-relaxed expression that Azula had sported for half a minute disappears. "Did you reply?"  
  
"No. I thought you should."  
  
"Good." Azula rests her head against the back of the sofa, staring up at the ceiling contemplatively.   
  
Chan Li fidgets a little nervously, conscious of the sudden spike in tension. "In the message the servant sent, Prince Ozai mentioned that we haven't seen him since we returned from the Emerald Isle."  
  
"Hmm." Azula scowls. "I would rather not, but I suppose we should make an appearance, for propriety's sake. Maybe it's best that we go soon, actually. It would be wise to see what he's up to."  
  
Chan Li remains silent for a few moments. He has never gotten along with his own father, but Azula's relationship with Prince Ozai goes beyond strife he can understand. They should be allies, and they're anything but. He doesn't know how they had related to one another before, but ever since Ozai's defeat at the hands of the Avatar, the loss of his bending, and Azula's ascension to the throne…  
  
"Do you think your father will ever adjust to the way things are now?" he asks softly.   
  
Azula appears to think it over for a few moments, and then scoffs. "I doubt it. Not only is this an unprecedented situation, this is never what he planned, you know. Me holding the throne, while he still lives. He must have counted on being Fire Lord for another twenty years, at least."   
  
She stretches her hands out and examines her painted fingernails. "He will either have to die, do something stupid enough that I send him into exile, or become accustomed to my new position," she says, with her typical shocking bluntness. "There are no other alternatives, with the exception of my death, of course. And that will not happen."  
  
"Don't even say that." Chan Li is surprised by how much the casual sentence rattles him. He can say with confidence that he doesn't love Azula, not in the way his friends love their wives, but still, they had sworn sacred vows binding their lives to one another's. It's ridiculous, especially considering she is far more powerful than him, but he feels a responsibility for her safety and well-being nevertheless.  
  
Before Azula can make some comment about him being foolishly sentimental, he changes the subject. "You know - even before all of this - if my father invited me to dinner, I wouldn't look forward to it either."  
  
Azula turns to face him, a spark of interest in those bright golden eyes of hers. "Really? Your family seems so normal. Except for the age difference between you and your brother, but that was the case with…someone I knew once and her younger brother, as well."   
  
Chan Li laughs, genuinely amused. "I've met a lot of people, and I can tell you that none of them have normal families. It's a burden that we of the Fire Nation have to bear."  
  
Azula smirks, opening her palm and igniting a small, dancing blue flame. "In exchange for the most powerful bending in the world, it doesn't seem so bad, does it?"  
  
He isn't sure he agrees, but Azula sighs, before he can say anything. "The beauty of it is that I am the Fire Lord, and you are my prince. If we decided to have our fathers exiled, we could do it in a heartbeat," she says pensively. "I could send my father to the most disgusting, middle-of-nowhere town in the Earth Kingdom. And you could have your father stationed on an outpost in a desert isle if he does anything else to bother you." She smiles, the expression more peaceful and serene than what he is used to seeing from her. "Isn't that a nice feeling?"  
  
Chan Li blinks, taken aback. "I…I never thought of it that way before."  
  
"Of course you haven't. Absolute power takes some time to get used to."  
  
Azula kisses him on the cheek, and then retrieves a thick stack of military reports from the desk. Within moments, she is immersed in her reading. Following her lead, Chan Li picks up his intelligence dossiers and spends the next half hour staring at them, without taking in a single word.   
  
-  
  
  



	10. Part 10

Almost immediately after the Dai Li operation in the city, one of the ten highest lords in the Fire Nation declares open rebellion. Chan Li had thought he had seen Azula angry before, but that was nothing, compared to the cold fury that overtakes her when she receives the news. She storms into her dressing room, yells at her servants to find her armor, and announces that she will lead the forces to put down the rebellion herself.  
  
It takes three whole days, and the combined efforts of all of her advisors, to convince her that it shouldn't be done. There is no talking to her afterwards, until they finally receive word that the rebellion was put down.  
  
"This is unbearable," Azula snaps, one evening after they have finished a particularly grueling firebending practice session. It is the first time she has come out of her silent, moody shell in days. "My father rules the Fire Nation for almost fifteen years, and not even a whisper of rebellion. Not even a _whisper_. I have been Fire Lord for less than a year - and all this dissent in the city, and open rebellion in the islands…"   
  
She turns away from him, practically shuddering with resentment. "It's humiliating. I see the way they all look at me. They're laughing at me, I know it."  
  
Chan Li wishes he could deny it. "It's over," is all he can say, and he knows it isn't enough. "The rebellion was contained swiftly. Lord Tenshi will be dealt with, and after seeing how this one failed, nobody else will dare rise against the throne."  
  
Azula shrugs, quick and irritable. They are alone in her private practice grounds, and she steps up on the rock ledge, balancing on it perfectly. "The traitor will arrive at the capital within a couple of days, according to General Yuen. I think I'll challenge him to an Agni Kai."  
  
Chan Li frowns. "Isn't he a non-bender?"  
  
"So? He should have thought about that before he decided to start a rebellion." Azula smirks. "It should be amusing, watching him run around the arena. I haven't yet decided whether I want to kill him quickly or slowly. Do you have any suggestions?"  
  
His skin crawls a little. "Azula…"  
  
"Slowly might cause the arena to smell, but I think it would make a powerful statement." She sinks down into the lotus position, and looks up at him expectantly.  
  
Chan Li sits beside her. "The man deserves death, but you can't challenge him to an Agni Kai," he says bluntly, still unable to believe that he is actually disagreeing with her. He had never thought this day would come. Perhaps it is a good sign that he is now secure enough in their marriage to voice dissent without fearing retaliation. "It's not…the imbalance in power…it wouldn't be an honorable match."  
  
Azula glares at him. "Inciting rebellion against one's leader isn't an honorable thing to do," she bites out. "This is only fitting."  
  
"Execution is the right punishment," he admits. "But the rest of the court might not see you challenging him to an Agni Kai that way, and people will talk."  
  
"Well," Azula replies, her voice heavy with sarcasm. "What do you suggest, then? Tea and crumpets?"  
  
Chan Li closes his eyes for a moment. He is looking forward to Azula getting into her twenties, and hopefully growing out of this difficult stage. "No. You can either hand him off to someone else to execute--"  
  
"Unacceptable," she interrupts. "The man that passes the sentence should swing the sword, figuratively speaking."  
  
"Well, you could swing the sword, literally."  
  
Azula raises an eyebrow, apparently intrigued. "…Go on."   
  
Chan Li shrugs, unable to keep himself from feeling a little squeamish. His father would be proud that the Fire Lord is discussing a matter of such importance with him, but the fact remains that they are discussing how to kill a man. "Challenge him to a non-bending sort of Agni Kai, and finish combat with a sword through his heart or across his neck, rather than a bolt of lightning to the chest."  
  
Azula looks at him appraisingly, and then wrinkles her delicate nose. "Won't that be messy?"  
  
Now that he thinks about it, he can't really imagine Azula fighting with a sword, or getting blood on her hands. "Yes," he admits. But it would make a statement."  
  
Azula drums her fingers against the ledge, evidently weighing the pros and cons. It is now or never, and his throat tightens and almost freezes up. "Or," Chan Li says, before his courage can abandon him, "I could challenge him to combat on your behalf."  
  
Azula's eyebrows shoot up, and she looks distinctly insulted. "What?"   
  
"Not because I think you won't win," he explains hastily. "Because, as your husband, it is my responsibility to avenge an insult against my liege lord and my wife."  
  
Azula rolls her eyes, and he can't tell whether she is exasperated or a little flattered, or a little bit of both. "Oh, for the spirits' sake. Really?"   
  
Chan Li looks at her cautiously. "Is that a yes or no?"   
  
The Fire Lord stands up and glowers down at him. "First you cheated me of the opportunity to crush this rebellion myself. Now you're getting in the way of my executing a traitor. This is getting to be a real problem, Chan Li. You can have this, for the sake of your honor, or whatever - but I deal with the next traitor. My way. Do you understand?"  
  
Her husband bows his head. "Yes, Fire Lord."  
  
Azula offers him a hand, pulling him to his feet. "Now," she says, all business. "Are you confident you can defeat the traitor in single combat, without your firebending?"  
  
Chan Li doesn't hesitate. "Of course."  
  
"Good. I don't want you to get yourself killed."  
  
He can't resist. "I think that's the most romantic thing you've ever said to me."  
  
Azula heaves a martyred sigh. "Come and show me what weapon you intend to use. We should practice."  
  
-  
  
The traitor arrives in the capital two days later.   
  
"I want you to be there," Azula tells Chan Li as they come in from their morning spar, and he blinks, taken aback. She has never requested his presence in her throne room, and he has never expected it. It is solely her domain; he understands that.   
  
"Are you sure?" he asks, and she gives him her usual sardonic look.   
  
"I never say things that I'm not sure of. You should know that by now."  
  
They walk to the throne room in silence. Azula takes her typical seat on the throne, and Chan Li stands behind her. Even at the distance, his face is made uncomfortably warm by the imposing wall of blue fire in front of them.   
  
Within minutes, the former Lord Tenshi, now stripped of all of his lands and titles, is dragged in by a full phalanx of guards. He is chained at the wrists and ankles, his fine clothes torn. One of the guards kicks him in the back of the knee, steel-toed boots colliding with unprotected flesh, and Lord Tenshi falls to the ground an in ignominious heap.   
  
Lord Tenshi and his family have dined at his father's house before. He and his father are of the same age; they had attended the military academy together. Chan Li almost averts his eyes, but forces himself to keep his gaze steady. This man is a traitor to the throne. Besides, even with her back to him, Azula will notice any display of weakness, as she always does. He will have to kill Lord Tenshi, after all. There is no point in getting squeamish now.   
  
"The traitor, Fire Lord," General Yuan announces, giving the man a contemptuous glance. "Charged with inciting his island to rebellion, in support of reinstating Prince Ozai to the throne."  
  
Azula's shoulders tense visibly, as if she had been slapped in the face. She breathes in, and when she speaks, her voice is as icy and controlled as ever. "This worthless man has broken the oath he swore to me at my coronation, and now he will suffer the consequences. Dealing with one so lacking in honor is beneath me. I would have had the executioner behead him, but my husband has requested to dispose of the traitor."   
  
She leans forward, addressing Lord Tenshi directly. "You schemed behind my back, like a coward, a gutless worm-snake. A fitting punishment for you is to face Prince Chan Li in single combat, using traditional weapons. Fight for your life, by all means. But you cannot win."  
  
Azula smiles, savoring the impact of her words. Lord Tenshi is staring fixedly at the ground, the odd tremor running through his body. "You have one hour to prepare yourself. Enjoy your time." She raises her voice. "Guards, take him away. Let him choose a sword from the armory."  
  
To Lord Tenshi's credit, he doesn't plead for his life. He doesn't beg for mercy, or say a single word, as a matter of fact, before the guards drag him from the room. It leaves the two of them alone, except for Azula's personal retinue of guards - chosen as much for their discretion as their protection skills.  
  
She rises, turns to face him, and then straightens his cloak. "Well," she says, breaking the silence. "Are you ready?"  
  
Chan Li nods wordlessly. Azula looks up at him, her gaze searching; seeing through him, as she does to everybody. "Are you nervous?"  
  
"I'm not afraid," he says, a touch defensively. "The man is my father's age, and I doubt he's picked up a sword since his days at the academy."  
  
Azula doesn't argue with him. She lifts a hand and presses it to his slightly pale cheek, checking his temperature. His skin is cool and clammy, despite the heat generated by her flames. "Do you want me to help you get ready?"  
  
For the second time that day, he is taken by surprise. Normally Azula commands, she doesn't ask. And she doesn't exactly believe in doing anything that a servant can't do for her. For a brief, ridiculous second, Chan Li wonders if she is worried about him. He dismisses the thought in his next breath. She's probably just concerned that he's getting cold feet. And she isn't wrong.  
  
"No," is all he says. "I'm fine."  
  
Azula studies him for a moment, her expression inscrutable. Finally, she stands on the tips of her toes, wraps her hand around the back of his neck, and tugs him down to her, kissing him on the lips. It lasts long enough that he can taste her lipstick and smell her perfume, before she lets him go. "I'm proud of you, Chan Li," she murmurs.  
  
He can't help but freeze at her words. Luckily, he is spared having to come up with a response, and spared the effort of trying to arrange his features into an appropriate expression. Azula turns away at once, recovering her composure. "Guards," she calls, as steady as ever. "You may escort me to the Agni Kai chamber. I would like to get a good seat."  
  
She departs without looking back.  
  
-  
  
After he retrieves his greatsword from his study, Chan Li spends the next fifteen minutes dry heaving in the bathroom. He slides down to the cool tile floor, his forehead pressed against the bathtub.  
  
When his valet knocks on the door, he rises to his feet, sheathes his sword, and washes his face and stares into the mirror. When he looks calm and steady again, as a Prince Consort should look (as Azula's husband should look), he steps out of the bathroom.  
  
-  
  
Azula does get a good seat. The chamber is packed just as full as it had been during Zuzu's Agni Kai with their father, and she smiles, though her hands tremble a bit. This is excellent. Let the entire court witness the fate of rebels and traitors. But dark thoughts rear up within her like a snake - _if Chan Li fails you, just like Mai and Ty Lee did, everyone will see, just like everyone at the Boiling Rock witnessed their treachery--_  
  
Azula banishes the thoughts. Impossible. Chan Li will not fail her.   
  
_That was what you thought about Mai and Ty Lee, too. Ty Lee, Chan Li, even their names are similar. You know what she did, and now he's in a position to do the same._  
  
Azula closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths, until the iron grip around her ribcage begins to relax.   
  
Her vantage point is simply flawless. She is in the front row, close enough to see the streaks of gray in Lord Tenshi's hair, and close enough to see the details on the hilt of Chan Li's sword. Lord Tenshi looks afraid. Chan Li appears calm, which is good. A good sign. They bow to one another before settling into their fighting stances.  
  
Azula counts three opportunities Chan Li has to finish it, in which he doesn't. She is just starting to sweat, underneath her robes, when she sees the fourth opportunity and if he doesn't take this one then she is already thinking of the Boiling Rock, of the heat of that afternoon, of Mai and Ty Lee fighting alongside her one minute and then the next--  
  
Her first impression of Chan Li had been that he didn't strike her as a coward. But what if he is? That would mean she had been wrong, again. She can't have been wrong again. She can't have misjudged again. The mere thought is enough to make her want to scream, or run. What if he can't do this? And she's just been starting to think that they could--  
  
Chan Li knocks Lord Tenshi's feet out from under him. Azula sees one moment of hesitation, just one. And then he thrusts his longsword through the traitor's heart, and twists it.  
  
-  
  
Everything after that is a blur.  
  
 _Such is the fate of traitors_ , the Fire Lord had commented, in the dead silence that followed. She had nodded to him, proud and imperious, and the court had risen and bowed to her, and then to him, and Chan Li had bowed to her, and then he escaped.   
  
A servant had taken his blood-stained sword, just outside the ring, and he had strode back to their rooms so quickly that he had left the guards behind. Chan Li closes the bathroom door behind him, and twists at the crystal knobs with shaking hands until clear, cold water gushes out with such force it splatters against the marble sink.  
  
He splashes water on his face once, twice, again. He puts his hands under the water and lets it flow over him.   
  
This isn't the first time he's killed a man. There have been two before this, but it hasn't gotten easier over time. He hopes it never does.  
  
Chan Li shuts the water off. He buries his face in a towel. His stomach heaves, and he thinks he may be sick, when a brisk knock sounds on the door. He recognizes the knock, and he has just enough time to put the towel down before Azula enters.  
  
She shuts and locks the door behind them, and then turns to look at him. There is something in her face that he's never seen before, and it takes a few moments to identify it as respect. "You did a good job out there," she tells him, reaching up and wiping a few stray drops of water from his neck. "Your technique was admirable."  
  
Coming from Azula, this is high praise. Chan Li just nods as graciously as he can, not yet trusting himself to speak.  
  
Azula frowns a little. "Are you upset?"   
  
This is just what he had been afraid of, but the words stick in his throat. In any case, she surprises him again. "I don't care if you're upset," she says, reaching out and touching his arm awkwardly. He jerks back, and she winces at how it sounded. "I mean…I don't mind that you are."   
  
The sound that comes out of his throat is half a laugh and half something strangled and unidentifiable. "Really."  
  
"I know these things can upset people. I'm not completely heartless." Azula pulls back, and then looks at the ground. "What matters to me is that you did it. It made you feel bad, but you did it for me, and I…" She trails off. "Never mind. I sent for some tea, if you want."  
  
Azula turns to leave, and before she can reach the door, Chan Li takes her hand. This isn't her fault, he realizes, for the first time since he had dealt the killing strike. None of this, everything that has been on his mind for days, has been her fault - their marriage, his having to come to court and accept all the responsibilities of being Prince Consort, the rebellion, none of it. "Thank you," he says quietly.  
  
He isn't sure whether she steps toward him first, or whether he pulls her closer, but they end up embracing for the first time. It only lasts for a few seconds, and when they pull apart, the look in Azula's eyes makes it clear that they aren't going to be having any sentimental discussions about this afterward.  
  
"Come," she tells him. "The tea will get cold."  
  
She leads him out of the bathroom, fingers still intertwined with his, and Chan Li follows.  
  
-  
  



	11. Part 11

Azula receives the news in the middle of a meeting regarding the agricultural state of the Fire Nation.   
  
They are discussing the implications of the long drought on this season's crops. The rice, wheat, and oat crops have all suffered, and the rural commoners of the Fire Nation are going hungry. The potato harvest in the south has been dramatically affected, and there will be a shortage for the next year, driving prices higher across the country. Even the peanut and the mandarin crops, usually reliable staples year after year, have been damaged.   
  
"Tell me about the cotton," Azula says, when the guard bursts into the throne room, unannounced.  
  
She raises an eyebrow fractionally, displeased at the interruption. Before she can ask the man to state his business, he speaks, gasping and out of breath. "Fire Lord," he manages. "I'm sorry. It's Prince Chan Li. Please, if you can come quickly--"  
  
It takes a moment for the words to register; for an empty, detached feeling to start spreading through her limbs and into her voice. "I apologize for the interruption," Azula tells the white-faced agricultural advisor. "I'm sure you understand."  
  
She leaves the room with the guard, her brisk steps outpacing his. The second the door shuts behind them, leaving them in the relative privacy of the hallway, Azula turns on the guard with a ferocity that makes him flinch. "That apology better have been for interrupting my meeting, not your clumsy attempt at conveying your condolences for my husband's death. You will explain yourself immediately."  
  
"I apologize for startling you, Fire Lord," the guard stammers. "Prince Chan Li is - we think it was an assassination attempt. He was hit in the arm by a poisoned arrow less than an hour ago, during his trip to the one of the orphanages in the city."   
  
Azula closes her eyes tightly, for just one moment. "You are retained to prevent this from happening," she says slowly, deliberately. "The entire purpose of your existence is to keep my husband and I from coming to harm."  
  
The guard winces at the rebuke. "I apologize, Fire Lord. The arrow would have struck his chest, if one of the other guards hadn't knocked him out of the way."  
  
She rubs her forehead, quickening her pace. "No use. There are major arteries in the arm," she thinks aloud. "The poison can still reach his heart. What poison was it?" she snaps, her mind racing. "How is he? Is he alert? Who shot the arrow?"  
  
"A man disguised as a food vendor outside of the orphanage, Fire Lord. He seems to have ingested the poison as soon as he shot the prince. He was dead by the time we found him. They're inspecting his body now."  
  
There is a crowd of guards and physician's assistants near the door to the royal infirmary, and Azula shoots her unfortunate messenger one final, quelling glare, before sweeping inside. The sitting room is chaos. The door to the private room shut, and Chan Li's dog paces in anxious circles in front of it and whines piteously.  
  
For some reason, the sight makes everything hit home, and Azula grabs one of the physician's assistants - rushing toward the closed door, face pinched with worry, clutching three heavy medical encyclopedias - by the arm. "Tell me everything," she orders. "Now."  
  
-  
  
"Any news?"  
  
"No. They still don't know what the poison is. Prince Chan Li is still unconscious, and his fever won't break."   
  
Bingwen's eyes widen.   
  
"They'll continue searching the encyclopedias through the night," Fu says tiredly, sinking onto the bench in the guards' quarters. He has been on duty since the morning, and his legs ache. "The Fire Lord has commanded it."   
  
Bingwen rubs the back of his neck. "How's she taking it?"  
  
"Shouted herself hoarse at the physicians and guards, cursed their incompetence, and threatened all of them with permanent ruin, if not death, if Prince Chan Li doesn't survive this." Fu sighs. "Basically, as well as we expected."  
  
"Better," Bingwen says fervently. "She hasn't had the squad of guards out with him this morning executed."  
  
"Not yet, anyway," Fu replies gloomily. "If he's not doing any better tomorrow…"  
  
They fall silent.  
  
-  
  
Fu and Bingwen have guard duty outside of the infirmary the next morning. In the aftermath of the attack on the prince, security at the royal palace has been elevated to its highest in months. Tension is thick in the air, and everyone seems to be darting suspicious glances at one another. The would-be assassin is dead, true, but it's still unknown whether this was some sort of conspiracy. More assassins could be tasked with finishing off Prince Chan Li, or targeting Fire Lord Azula or Prince Ozai.  
  
As royal guards, men like Fu and Bingwen have to see everything and hear everything. When it comes to their rulers, though, they have to see nothing and hear nothing.  
  
They stand motionless, faced straight ahead, as the Fire Lord yells at the royal physician until her voice cracks. _No, you will not amputate his arm! That's his sword arm, his firebending arm! You will not make him suffer the consequences of your pitiable ineptitude!_   
  
The Fire Lord storms out of the room just afterwards, slamming the door behind her so loudly that the walls shake. She looks shaken and unhappier than either of them - in service to the royal palace since her fifth birthday - have ever seen her, and Fu has to bite his tongue to hold back an attempt at consolation.   
  
"Our princess - Fire Lord Azula has always been exceptionally lucky," Bingwen says softly, after she has disappeared down the hallway. "Hopefully, her luck will continue to hold."  
  
-  
  
Azula has never been one to pray. She had made a visit to the royal shrine on the morning of her coronation and on the morning of her wedding, for tradition's sake, but she hasn't visited it since then.  
  
Today, she lights the incense sticks, heavy with the scent of sandalwood and roses, with her fingertips. She bows her head stiffly and makes offerings of lotus blossoms and rose petals from the gardens.   
  
She doesn't really know how to pray. All she knows, with surprising clarity, is that she doesn't want Chan Li to die. They don't have an heir yet, which means that if he dies now, she will have to marry again. An enemy that one knows is always better than the unknown enemy. Besides… Chan Li is no longer the enemy. She hates to admit it, even to herself, but he isn't just an ally. He is the closest thing to a friend she has had since Ty Lee and Mai had abandoned her.  
  
 _Fool,_ the dark voice whispers to her. She shouldn't have let this happen again. This is what happens when she grows fond of people. It inevitably leads to pain. They leave her, through abandonment, or getting themselves killed. If Chan Li dies, it will actually hurt, and she only has herself to blame.   
  
The attack had been two days ago, and they still haven't identified the poison. Chan Li's fever hasn't broken. Whenever she visits him, after she is done with her day's duties, and puts her hand on his forehead, it is warm and wet with sweat. He isn't lucid, either. The physicians tell her that he calls for her during the day, but when she visits, he doesn't recognize her. She sits by his bedside and somewhat awkwardly holds his hand, and that seems to give him some comfort. At least the doctors haven't broached the subject of amputating his arm again.  
  
Azula stays in the shrine until sunset. When she rises the next morning, after a troubled, fragmented sleep riddled with nightmares, it is to the news that the royal physician has finally identified the poison on the arrow. The message says that she is in the process of brewing an antidote.  
  
After a few minutes of staring at the message, Azula goes to stand by the window and looks at the rising sun. It seems that the Sun Spirit had heard her prayers. Though the people of the Fire Nation obviously do not wish her well, the spirits are still on her side.   
  
-  
  
The first thing that Chan Li notices when he wakes is the searing pain, the worst he has ever experienced. It radiates from his right arm into his chest, white-hot and intense enough to make him tremble.  
  
His surroundings are unfamiliar, and for a few moments, there is nothing but dull, groggy confusion. It comes back then - the glint of the arrow in the sunlight, the guards shouting, one of them colliding with him, pushing him out of the way, the sudden pain in his upper arm.   
  
He tries to push himself into a sitting position, and then, everything goes black.  
  
He wakes, again, to the royal physician's face looming above him. Checking the bandages around his arm and shoulder, and applying some kind of cold, numbing poultice to the injury. "It would be best not to overexert yourself, Prince Chan Li," tells him. "That includes any sudden movement. The immediate danger is past, but you're still heavily sedated, and you still have a lot of healing to do."   
  
"Azula," Chan Li mumbles, his head spinning, overwhelmed with thoughts of assassination attempts and conspiracies.  
  
"The Fire Lord is well," Meilin assures him. "Though I'm sure she will be better when she hears you're awake."  
  
All the breath leaves Chan Li's body in a ragged gasp. "I thought she was…"   
  
"A common side-effect of sadi star poisoning is violent hallucinations," Meilin tells him soberly. "I assure you that no attempts have been made on the Fire Lord's life since your injury. She is being guarded around the clock." Ignoring his protests, the physician takes a damp cloth and begins to wipe down his face, as his nursemaid used to do for him when he became ill as a child. "You might not recall it, but she has visited you every evening."  
  
Chan Li frowns, more surprised than anything. Before he can ask anything else, though, his leaden eyelids sink shut, as if of their own accord.   
  
-  
  
After finishing her duties for the day, Azula makes a quick trip to her rooms. She gathers the books she had been searching for, and then frowns severely at Chan Li's dog, who is prancing around her feet, as if he _knows_. "No," she orders. "No, sit down. You can't come. The physician said that the environment has to be sterile. We can't have you drooling all over the place," she adds, under her breath.   
  
The dog tries to lick her, inexplicably, and she makes a rapid exit. Outside of the infirmary, Azula hovers outside the door for a moment. Most uncharacteristic. She takes a deep breath and enters, and for the first time in almost a week, Chan Li is actually awake. He is propped up against the pillows, struggling to do some exercises with his bandaged arm, undoubtedly against the doctor's orders. When he sees her, he smiles. "Azula."  
  
She approaches his bed and stands at a respectable distance, her hands folded behind her back. "Chan Li," she says formally. "It's good to see you awake. How are you feeling?"  
  
He pulls a face, and then rubs at the stubble on his cheeks ruefully. "As good as I look."  
  
"Terrible, then." She favors him with a small smile, and takes a seat. To her surprise, he turns his palm upward on the sheet, reaching it out to her a little. After a moment of hesitation, Azula takes it. They had held hands enough when he was unconscious, after all.   
  
"I don't know if you know this, but the man who shot the arrow committed suicide," she tells him, intertwining their fingers together. "I was very displeased to hear it. I would have relished killing him myself."  
  
Chan Li rubs his thumb against the top of her hand. The movement is jerky and tremulous. "You say the sweetest things to me."  
  
She scowls at him, and he laughs, the sound quickly turning into a groan of pain for how the movement affects his injured arm. Azula reaches for his arm instinctively, unsure of what she should do. "It's fine," he says, though it's obviously anything but. "Meilin told me that they wanted to amputate it. Thank you for ordering them not to."  
  
"Yes," Azula acknowledges. "I thought you would be unhappy to wake up and find yourself lacking your painting hand. Apparently, you'll need therapy for some time, though. And your reflexes on that arm may never be as quick as they were."  
  
Chan Li sighs. "It's a small price to pay."  
  
"It is."  
  
Their eyes meet, and suddenly, it's a little awkward, and Azula coughs and lifts up the book in her hand. "I bought this for you. It's the one you were reading, before."  
  
"Thank you. It'll be nice to have something to get my mind off the pain."  
  
Azula frowns, suddenly realizing something. "But you can't hold it."  
  
Chan Li's lips twitch. "Well, then, I could always have a guard read it to me."   
  
Azula can't help but sniff in amusement at the mental image. "You're starting to think like me. Until then…"   
  
She cracks the book open, flipping to where he left off, and Chan Li stares. "What are you doing?"  
  
"I didn't know your vision was affected by the poison. Maybe you should mention that to the physician. I told you to call her Mingyu, by the way."   
  
"Are you going to…?"  
  
"I could talk to you about affairs of state and everything that has taken place over the past week, but I don't want to overtax your mind and put you to sleep." Azula primly settles the book in her lap. "So I will read to you instead. Li and Lo have told me that it is an appropriate thing to do at the bedside of an invalid."  
  
Chan Li blinks, strangely torn between being horrified and touched.  
  
Azula gives the book a supercilious look. "I don't care much for this writing style. It's quite pedestrian, not like the detective serial. However, it is not my job to pass judgment on your literary preferences."  
  
(The look on Azula's face makes it quite clear that she is passing judgment on his literary preferences.)  
  
-  
  
It takes a few days longer before Chan Li is released from the infirmary. In that time, Azula has to ignore no less than five of his requests to sneak his dog into the place. When Chan Li finally returns to their rooms, his arm still in bandages, the dog runs around the suite in such a state of overwhelming joy that Azula feels that it might be in danger of having a seizure.  
  
Chan Li brings a vast collection of foul-smelling salves and poultices that he has to apply to the wound, and the area around it, until it heals. In the meantime, he is perfecting the art of eating with his left hand. After dinner, he strips his shirt off and sits on the edge of the sofa in their study, undoing his bandages and gingerly applying the salves.  
  
Azula glances up at him every once in a while. Finally, she sets aside her reports and joins him on the sofa. "Let me do it," she says.  
  
Chan Li swallows his pride and agrees. The salve is cool against her fingers and a most unattractive shade of Earth Kingdom slime-green. Azula massages it into his right arm, chest, and back, in silence. His skin is warm underneath her fingers, but not feverishly so, and his muscles flex underneath her touch.  
  
It is just the latest in a long line of her recent uncharacteristic behaviors, but when she is finished, Azula leans her forehead against his back for a moment. "Chan Li," she murmurs, her lips brushing his skin. "I am glad you didn't die."  
  
Chan Li doesn't say anything. He just turns around and wraps his good arm around her, and when he leans down to kiss her, Azula stretches up and meets him halfway.  
  
-  
  
Thank you so much to everybody who has left kudos and comments so far. I really appreciate it. :)  
  
  
  
  
  



	12. Part 12

Azula wakes early the next morning. She drags herself out from underneath Chan Li's good arm with a huff of displeasure and much difficulty, and then rolls out of bed. He doesn't stir, as usual.  
  
She freshens up and dresses, and instead of heading out to the firebending courts, she visits her balcony. It's less than an hour after sunrise, and she already has too much weighing on her mind. Everything that she hasn't had the time or energy to think about in the last few days demands her immediate attention.  
  
Azula rests her hands on the wrought-iron railing and closes her eyes for a moment. The guards who had recovered the would-be assassin's body reported to her yesterday. They hadn't found a single clue to his identity, or who had paid him, on his person. Not that she had expected them to.   
  
Of course, the fact that Chan Li had been targeted, and not her, narrows things down considerably. To be honest, she had never expected that he would ever find himself in danger. His parents are popular and powerful at court, and he himself is as inoffensive as a glass of milk.   
  
Her instinct, every time something is even the slightest bit amiss at court, is to suspect her father. They keep out of each other's way as much as possible, but he is always there, a dark, malignant shadow at the edge of her consciousness. Two things make him dangerous: his network of friends, associates, and various connections is as vast as it has ever been. And he has money, of course; enough for him to access the best of the best paid killers, if he so wished.   
  
Azula frowns. However, it wouldn't make sense for her father to be responsible for this. Chan Li had been his choice for her husband, after all, and he and Admiral Chan are as close as ever.   
  
After Lord Tenshi's execution at Chan Li's hands the previous month, the obvious suspect would be someone in Tenshi's family. His in-laws, maybe. His coffers had been drained and estates returned to the crown as punishment for his treason, so his wife, son, and daughter wouldn't have been able to fund any assassination attempt. They probably won't even be able to fund their own food this winter.  
  
She taps her fingernails on the railing. "Good morning," she says evenly, without turning around. "I'm in the middle of figuring out who tried to kill you."  
  
"You know," Chan Li says, stifling a yawn, as he comes to stand beside her. "I hadn't even thought about it."  
  
"Yes, it seems clear that I'm the one responsible for the thinking in this alliance."  
  
Chan Li ruffles her hair, completely unfazed, and Azula makes a face, ducking away. "Do you have any ideas?" he asks, sounding surprisingly calm. He's handling his first attempted assassination very well. Maybe she had underestimated him.  
  
"I ruled out my father already. I'm considering Tenshi's in-laws." Azula glances up at him. "And the high-ranking families at court with sons of marriageable age. I'm sure that many of them are envious of your family's new position and influence."  
  
Chan Li nods, finally looking troubled. "Do you think it will happen again?"  
  
"I can't make any promises," Azula says bluntly, after a brief inspection of her fingernails. "I would have liked to make an example of the people responsible for this, just to ensure that nobody will try anything similar for a few years. I don't have any evidence, though."  
  
She rests a hand on his arm, in an attempt at comfort. "I am upgrading your security detail, if that makes you feel better. My advice to you is to avoid open spaces outside of the palace grounds, or any crowded areas."  
  
Chan Li rubs the back of his neck, visibly uncomfortable. "I didn't expect this," he says, after a while. "I knew there would be changes, when I came here, but I didn't think…"   
  
"Nobody does," Azula replies, with her usual brutal honesty. "They see the palace, and they hear of the wealth, and they covet it. Nobody ever considers this aspect of marrying into the royal family. Which is fine," she adds. "Otherwise, nobody would want us and we would still be marrying our cousins or siblings, and I would have been stuck with Zuzu."  
  
Chan Li has to laugh a little at the look of utter disgust on her face. "You don't understand," she protests. "I would have killed myself."  
  
"No, you would have killed him."  
  
"…You're probably right." Azula sighs, looking out over the courtyard. "Speaking of marriage, have you noticed that my father has been spending more time than usual with Lord Yida? My informants tell me that they meet several times a week."  
  
Chan Li raises his eyebrows. "I have noticed them walking around the gardens together, but I'm not sure I'm following your line of thought."   
  
A faint blush colors her cheeks. "Don't be ridiculous. Lord Yida has a daughter, Nuying. She's your age, and recently widowed."  
  
"Oh," Chan Li says. And then, " _Oh_."  
  
Azula scowls. "Yes. Exactly."  
  
She lapses into a moody silence, and he pats her on the shoulder tentatively, unsure of how to broach the subject. "Does the thought of his remarrying bother you?"  
  
Azula shrugs irritably. "You know very well that I have no lingering affection for my mother. Father could take up with ten different women for all I care. The only thing that concerns me is that Lady Nuying is of childbearing age."  
  
She falls silent again, the web of premature lines around her eyes deepening, and Chan Li looks at her uneasily. "You can't possibly feel threatened."  
  
"Yes, Chan Li, I _can_ possibly feel threatened." Azula leaves her spot at the railing, pacing in a tight, anxious circle. "My father has shown no interest in remarriage since my mother's departure. None. But now, right after I succeed him as Fire Lord, he's suddenly interested in a wealthy woman who is still young enough to give him children. Coincidence? I doubt it."   
  
This conversation is leaving a very bad taste in his mouth. "Maybe it is," he says slowly, evenly, trying to calm her down. "Prince Ozai is in his late forties. He's just lost his firebending. This could be some sort of…mid-life crisis. He could be trying to introduce some change into his life, and recapture his youth. Maybe feeling desired will help him through whatever personal issues he has over the loss of his firebending."   
  
Azula takes a deep breath. "You're being very naive. And you don't know my father," she says, with conviction.   
  
"It just doesn't make sense to me, Azula." Chan Li gestures between them a little awkwardly. "He arranged our marriage for the purpose of gaining legitimate heirs to the throne. Why would he have done that, if he wanted to seize the throne? Spirits forbid, if anything to happen to you, our child would inherit, not Prince Ozai. If he really had any…intentions, wouldn't he have wanted you to remain unmarried?"   
  
Azula eyes him, seemingly unimpressed by his logic. "Not necessarily. Actually, either way, things work out very well for him. If I die without having children, the throne reverts to him. If something happens to me and I leave an infant or a young child behind, my father acts as regent. By the time the child comes of age at sixteen, my father would have molded him or her into a perfect puppet. Having learned from his mistakes the first time around, of course."   
  
She smiles, small and bitter, and it sends chills down his spine. He hasn't been this uncomfortable since his first day in the capital. "I know you don't trust him, but this is unreasonable. No father would harm his own daughter."  
  
Azula turns on him, and the fury in her eyes makes him take a step back. "Don't call me that. I don't need that from you, of all people."  
  
"I'm sorry," Chan Li says immediately, shaken. "I didn't mean…"  
  
She glares at him. "You say that no father would harm his own daughter. Well, how many fathers do you know who would burn half of their son's face off in an Agni Kai, and then send them into exile?"  
  
"I--"  
  
Azula stares at him coldly. "I'm waiting."  
  
Chan Li ducks his head. "None," he says quietly, truthfully.   
  
"Exactly." Azula's shoulders tremble for just a moment, before she regains her usual rigid self-control. She looks away, and his heart goes out to her. Whether Ozai would do it or not, the mere fact that she suspects it of her own father speaks volumes to the dysfunctional nature of their relationship.  
  
"Do you think you can send him away?" he asks gently.  
  
Azula brushes a stray strand of hair out of her face. "I have the power to, of course. But I can't have him out of my sight. That would be a very stupid thing to do." She closes her eyes again, and when she opens them, he catches a rare glimpse of unguarded sorrow. "I never thought being the Fire Lord would be like this. He was supposed to be dead, by the time I ascended the throne. Sometimes I wish that the Avatar had had the guts to kill him."   
  
It is an effort to keep his expression neutral.  
  
"And then I hate that I think that way," Azula says, so quietly that he can barely hear her. "I used to draw him pictures, when I was very young, and he kept them in his study. I was always his favorite. He always spent time with me." She blinks. "It would be easier to arrange an accident for him, but I am not a monster, no matter what everybody else thinks."  
  
Chan Li rests a careful hand on her shoulder. "You aren't a monster. You've just…" he sighs. "You've grown up in a very unusual environment." Twisted and deeply unhealthy would have been better words, but this will have to do.  
  
"You're very kind." Azula turns away from the courtyard, and leans her back against the railing. "I will have to keep watching him. And both you and I will have to be more vigilant than ever, from this point forward."  
  
"Of course." Chan Li looks at her, and the sadness he feels weighs him down more than the dull, aching pain in his injured arm. What kind of lion-serpent pit had his father thrown him into? At least he hadn't had to suffer the consequences of being born into it. "But first, breakfast."  
  
Azula laughs, the sound hollow. "Yes, that sounds nice."  
  
She takes his hand, and leads him inside.  
  
-  
  
  



	13. Part 13

In reflection, Chan Li understands that there was one good thing that came out of the assassination attempt. It is the realization that Azula may actually be growing to tolerate him.  
  
Within two weeks, to his great relief, he regains enough mobility in his right arm to be able to paint again. Azula sits in the study with him as he does, doing her paperwork, and pressing the reluctant Rao into service as a foot warmer. Though education in art, music, and theater had been part of the curriculum at the Royal Academy for Girls, Azula's knowledge of art is negligible at best. Still, occasionally, she looks up from her book and tells him that his colors or shapes are interesting, and Chan Li can't help but smile.  
  
"Do you know how I know that you aren't like other men?" she inquires one evening, as he mixes colors for the sky he is painting.  
  
Chan Li pours a little bit of purple paint into the pool of gray and glances over his shoulder at her. He doesn't worry that this line of conversation will lead to some sort of insult, as it had on the rare occasion he mentions his painting to people besides his close friends. Azula has an exceedingly low opinion of most other men. "How?"  
  
She smirks at him, setting aside her report. "You haven't used your passion for painting as an excuse to ask me to model for you in varying stages of undress."  
  
Her answer startles him into laughter. "I couldn't, even if I wanted to," Chan Li replies, dabbing his brush into the paint. It needs more purple. "I never studied figure painting or portraits."  
  
He would have, if he had studied at the academy of art. He would have been able to learn a lot more, and do a lot more, than simple landscapes. But his father had forbidden it, shouting about how artwork wasn't a suitable pursuit for a man, and the words hang in the air between them. Azula sniffs, readjusting her feet, and Rao stares at him as if begging for mercy. "You know, I could order some of the instructors at the academy to spend a year in residence here," she says, looking anywhere but at him.   
  
His brushstroke falters on the paper, and Chan Li blinks, taken aback by the unexpected kindness of the offer. "Thank you. That's…" He flounders for a second. "That's very sweet of you."  
  
Azula shudders, appearing genuinely unnerved. "Ugh. Please don't call me _sweet_."  
  
"What should I call you, then?"  
  
"'Most noble and benevolent ruler' should suffice." Azula smoothes her hair over her shoulder, giving him a smug look.   
  
Chan Li coughs to mask a laugh. After several attempts, the color of the sky has finally turned out right - just the perfect mix of darkness and light. "As you wish, Fire Lord."  
  
-  
  
It takes three evenings to complete the painting. When it is finished, Chan Li tries to relax on the sofa, fighting the impulse to squint at it and criticize it until he goes cross-eyed. He distracts himself by petting Rao, until he hears the study door creak open.  
  
He looks up and sees Azula's shadow on the rug, but no Azula. She appears to be lingering at the doorway, just out of his line of sight. "I am going to enter now," she announces. "To retrieve some documents. You may not laugh."  
  
He has no idea why he would laugh at the sight of her, but Chan Li completes the sentence in his head anyway. _Under pain of death or exile_. He bites the inside of his cheek, not wanting to experience either. Now would be a good time to stifle the impulse to crack bad jokes, but as always, it will not be silenced. "I never laugh."   
  
Azula enters, glowering at him. Her hair is tied back in a simple ponytail, and she has applied some sort of green clay mask to her face. Rao stares at her and tilts his head to one side, bemused.   
  
Chan Li is fairly sure that she's blushing, underneath the mask. "I normally do this at the spa," she snaps, retrieving a stack of spy reports from the desk. "But I was tired today, and we've been married for long enough that I suppose you can see me like this."  
  
Chan Li nods. "I don't get one?" he asks, straight-faced.  
  
Azula gathers the reports under her arm and looks down at him superciliously. "Don't be ridiculous, Chan Li."  
  
With that, she leaves him. After some reluctance, motivated by her never-ending productivity, Chan Li picks up a half-finished letter to one of the royal informants outside the capital city. The moment he does, Azula sweeps back into the room, holding a glass bottle, and seats herself beside him.  
  
"As your skin doesn't tend to become oily, you don't need a clay mask," she explains, with much greater patience than usual. "This is more appropriate."  
  
Without further ado, she pours some of the oil onto her fingertips, and Chan Li finds himself frozen, sitting as still as a statue, as Azula actually applies the heavy, fragrant oil to his face. His cheeks, chin, forehead, nose. Her touch is firm, but surprisingly gentle. He can't help but wonder if this is something that she had once done with her former friends, Mai and Ty Lee, before the unfortunate incident at the Boiling Rock.   
  
The thought is an oddly sad one. She must find him a poor substitute for them. Azula should be spending time with other girls her age, and yet almost all of the people she has to surround herself with - including him - are older men. They talk to her about politics, economics, the Fire Nation, and matters of state, and Chan Li has never considered it before, but she must want more. No matter what she says about trust being for fools and personal connections only leading to betrayal, it must be difficult to be so alone.   
  
Thankfully unaware of his train of thought, Azula inspects his skin more intently than anyone ever has, and frowns, and then scowls. "You've never moisturized, have you? Not once in your life."   
  
"Uh," Chan Li manages, as best as he can with her massaging oil underneath his eyes.   
  
"I thought not. And you have years of sun and wind damage." Finally, Azula pulls back, after muttering something under her breath about fine lines near the eyes.   
  
"I don't feel damaged," he protests weakly, and resists the temptation to give his eyes a self-conscious pat.  
  
"Of course you don't." There is a teasing glimmer in her eyes, one that rarely surfaces for more than a few moments. "It's in my interests to make sure you age well. I think, given time, that you'll be quite lovely."  
  
Chan Li catches her hand and looks at her as solemnly as he can. "I have always wanted to be lovely. The healers looked at me at birth and told my parents that there was no hope."  
  
Azula exhales with slightly more force than usual, and that, combined with the quirk of her lips, counts as a laugh. She squeezes his hand. "You _are_ hopeless."  
  
Just to mortify her, Chan Li leans forward, trying to press a light kiss to her lips. Azula pushes him away, as he knew she would, and this time, she actually laughs a little. "Stop it, you beast. Are you trying to act like Lord Bohai's disgusting son?"  
  
Chan Li stares, taken aback. "Lord Bohai's son tried to kiss you?"  
  
Azula heaves a long-suffering sigh. "Of course not. I would have had him sent to the Boiling Rock if he had. But didn't you see him at our wedding banquet? He was being quite inappropriate with the other ladies in attendance, including the married ones. He's going to end up with his face burned off sometime soon."   
  
Azula sounds amused at the prospect, unsurprisingly, and soon enough, the conversation turns to the recent Agni Kai fought for a certain lady's honor, between her father and her suspected lover. This isn't their first gossip session, but this one feels more intimate, somehow, perhaps as a by-product of both of them simultaneously undergoing facial treatments. It is comfortable, and maybe it is a trick of the firelight, but Azula actually looks content and almost happy.   
  
They talk until the fire dies down to embers, and the last thing Chan Li remembers before his heavy eyelids slip shut, is Azula commenting on some lady's shoes. He wakes up to a prod in the shin, and blinks blearily up at the Fire Lord, her face washed clean of the clay mask.  
  
"You fell asleep," she says, sounding a bit put out. "You have no sense of proper etiquette. You really wouldn't have lasted at any decent sleepover, I assume."   
  
"I'm sorry."   
  
"You're lucky I didn't paint on your face." The expression on Azula's face makes it quite clear that she would have, if not for the facial oil she had so carefully applied. She holds her hand out. "Come to bed, if you're so tired."  
  
"I don't…" Chan Li mumbles, his eyes already closing. His friends had done much worse than paint on his face to him while he had been in the academy and fallen asleep before them, but she doesn't need to know the details.   
  
The last thing he hears before sleep reclaims him is an annoyed sigh.  
  
Chan Li wakes up the next morning with a blanket thrown over him, and a pillow stuffed underneath his head.   
  
-


	14. Part 14

This is quickly turning out to be the worst lunch of Chan Li's life.  
  
He grits his teeth and stabs a piece of komodo chicken with his chopsticks. "Mother," he says, as politely as he can. "I do not want to discuss this with you."  
  
His mother and his father exchange significant looks, before his father sighs. "You should try to be a little understanding, Chan Li. Your mother and I were very concerned, after the attempt on your life. We're not alone in wondering whether there will be an heir to the throne soon. Spirits forbid, if anything happened to you or the Fire Lord…"   
  
He trails off delicately, and Chan Li studies his glass of mango juice. "I'm sure there will be an heir," he forces out. "In time."  
  
His parents are conspicuously silent. "I understand that you were a bit squeamish before the wedding night," his mother says, lowering her voice. "About the age difference. You have been able to get over it by now, haven't you?"  
  
His mother is not-so-discreetly asking him about his ability to perform his marital duties. Chan Li seriously considers stabbing himself with the nearby butter knife. "Yes," he mumbles. If they even think about asking him about _frequency_ , he is leaving right now, filial piety be damned.   
  
Thankfully, the conversation does not go in that direction. It veers off into a fresh new torment. "It's been six months since the wedding. Something should have happened by now. Are the Fire Lord's monthly courses regular?"  
  
Chan Li feels the blood drain from his face. His mother, who had asked the question, and his father, silent and complicit in this humiliation, just sit and stare at him expectantly. "I don't concern myself with that aspect of my wife's personal business," he says sharply. "The royal physician examined both of us and she said we were in good health."  
  
Predictably enough, that response sparks a lecture from his father, about how they only have his well-being - and the Fire Nation's well-being - at heart. And how he, as the Prince Consort of this nation, should take a more serious attitude toward matters of such importance. His mother suggests several herbs and draughts to increase male and female fertility, and stops just short of ordering him to be intimate with Azula twice a day.  
  
Chan Li leaves his parents' suite in a bad mood, with the beginnings of a headache coming on. It is a long walk back to his office. The intelligence and interrogations department is located in the very bowels of the palace, close to the dungeons, and close to most of the secret entrances in and out of the palace. It's convenient for meeting with Azula's vast network of spies. It is also cold, dark, and somewhat depressing.  
  
Rao comes to work with him every day. Normally, he takes the dog out for a short walk in the courtyard during lunchtime, but his parents had insisted on seeing him today, and he couldn't politely refuse. As soon as he returns to the office, Rao pokes his head out from underneath the desk and wags his tail madly. Chan Li smiles, before kneeling and handing him the tissue-wrapped komodo chicken bones he had salvaged from lunch.  
  
The prince works in silence, reading reports from the palace spies first, and then from their contacts in the noble houses of the Fire Nation. When he had first started, it had been difficult to keep his eyes open. He had never been too conscious of it until he started living with Azula, but he is a slow reader. It had taken him months to master the codes, as well, but he's finally become reasonably skilled at deciphering the messages at first glance.  
  
When the clock strikes three, Chan Li gets up from his chair and locks the door. He crosses over to the other side of his office, and unhooks the long dragon tapestry from the wall. Then, he kneels to the ground and fumbles around on the floor near the bookshelf until he hears the telltale click of the lock.   
  
He is in the middle of brewing two cups of tea when he hears a soft knock on the wall. The entrance to the hidden passageway is marvelously concealed, and even though he's familiar with it, he can never see the latch unless his eyes are about an inch away from it.   
  
Chan Li slides the hidden door open, and finds himself face-to-face with the most average-looking man in the Fire Nation. He is of average height, weight, complexion, eye color, and hair color. He has no distinguishing features whatsoever. In simple clothes, he could be a farm laborer or a merchant. In more elaborate garb, he could be a lord's son. Right now, he is dressed in the plain, nondescript clothing of the capital's working class.  
  
 _They say he's touched by the Faceless One_ , Azula had told him once, naming one of the patron spirits of the outlying Fire Nation islands. _There's something about him. When he is in a crowd, he is utterly indistinguishable from the rest. If you see him alone, and you try to remember his face later, you'll find yourself unable to do so. It's remarkable._  
  
It's true. And it makes Chan Li's skin crawl. He doesn't know where or how Azula had found him, but he has been a valuable asset to the crown since her coronation. He bows to the man, stepping aside and allowing him in. "Welcome."  
  
The man bows back, wordlessly.   
  
"Do you have any news?" Chan Li asks, offering him a cup of tea, and indicating that he should sit. Rao glances at the newcomer and whines, distressed, as he does whenever this particular individual visits.  
  
The Gray Man, as Azula had called him - _don't look at me like that, Chan Li. I'm not being snide. That's really what he's called_ \- looks at him, with his clear gray eyes, and ever-blank expression. "I do. It is…" He glances at the door, lowering his voice. "Of a particularly sensitive nature."   
  
Chan Li raises his eyebrows, torn between curiosity and apprehension. The Gray Man frequents the darkest, seediest areas of the Fire Nation capital city. The crime-riddled slums, the opium dens, and much worse. "Yes?"  
  
"A lord of minor importance visited my workplace last night," the Gray Man says carefully, his lips barely moving. "He had a meeting with the magistrate."   
  
Chan Li feels his shoulders stiffen. "Go on."   
  
"I happened to overhear what was discussed." The Gray Man shifts in his seat, his voice little more than a whisper. "The lord sought the magistrate's help in finding a permanent resolution to a family matter that has been troubling him."   
  
His mouth goes dry. "You're sure."  
  
The Gray Man inclines his head once, and his stomach ties itself up in knots. Chan Li reaches for a piece of parchment and a quill with a shaking hand, and hands it to the spy.  
  
He gets up and paces while the spy writes. Finally, the Gray Man holds the parchment out to him, and Chan Li takes it and studies it, written out, clear as day in the dark ink.  
  
"You're sure?" he asks again, and thankfully, his voice doesn't quaver. "This is…a matter of some importance."   
  
"I never lie, my lord," the Gray Man whispers. "I'll report the same to the Fire Lord, and she'll hear the truth in my voice. I can come back later today, if you wish, to speak to her."  
  
"No," Chan Li says, sharper than he had meant to. "…No. I apologize. I will deal with this. You keep me updated. Return here if you hear anything. _Anything_ at all."  
  
The Gray Man rises and bows low. "I will, my lord." He glances at the parchment in Chan Li's hand. "It may be best to dispose of that."  
  
"Yes," Chan Li says woodenly, his hand clenching around the paper. "I will. Thank you."  
  
The Gray Man lets himself out. After a few minutes of staring at the wall, Chan Li makes himself move; makes himself replace the tapestry and lock the hidden door. He doesn't sit in his chair again so much as collapse into it, his head buried in his hands.  
  
-  
  
  
  



	15. Part 15

The right thing to do, the only logical thing to do, is to tell Azula the truth.  
  
Chan Li sits in his chair, petrified with fear and disgust, until the clock strikes five, and it is time for him to return to his quarters. He knows what he has to do now. He has to have dinner with Azula, and afterwards, he has to tell her that her father is planning to have her killed.  
  
He gets up, and sits back down. Just thinking about it is making him queasy. How on earth is he supposed to look into her eyes and tell her what Ozai has planned? It's true that she has her suspicions about Prince Ozai, but Azula is suspicious about everybody and everything. It's a matter of habit. He doubts she really believes that he would be capable of coldheartedly ordering an assassin to come after her.  
  
Chan Li practices saying it out loud, quietly, to Rao. "Azula, I met with the Gray Man today, and he confirmed your suspicions about your father."  
  
His dog blinks up at him mournfully. Chan Li tries again, unsure whether he should be vague or blunt, but either way, it has the same end result. Azula will be outraged, but then, after minutes or hours or days, will come the inevitable sorrow and sense of betrayal and pain.  
  
 _I used to draw him pictures, when I was very young_ , Azula had told him. _And he kept them in his study. I was always his favorite. He always spent time with me._  
  
Until then, he would never have guessed it, but that conversation had made it evident that she still has some sort of regard for Ozai. She still has some fond memories of him. Maybe she loves him (as much as Azula can love anybody). And Ozai wants to have her killed, just for the chance to reclaim the throne, and Chan Li thinks that he might be sick.  
  
He takes a few deep breaths, struggling to calm down. If this is having such an impact on him, what will it do to her? Azula can be volatile at the best of times. Her fury when Lord Tenshi had rebelled had been frightening to behold, and impossible for him to deal with. This betrayal is worse, and a thousand times more personal. What if it pushes her over the edge and triggers some sort of breakdown? What if she falls apart? The Fire Nation can't afford that. _Azula_ can't afford it.  
  
Chan Li puts his head in his hands again. "I can't do this," he mutters to himself. He has never been particularly brave, in any case, and how is anybody supposed to deliver news like this?  
  
It takes a considerable amount of effort for him to stand, school his expression into neutrality, and return to the royal suite. Azula is just emerging from her bath, wrapped in a robe, when he and Rao walk in. "Chan Li," she greets, giving him a small smile, as he walks to her and then leans down to press a kiss to her cheek. "You're late. How was work?"  
  
The truth is on the tip of his tongue, on the verge of tumbling out. Azula looks so relaxed, though, and actually in a good mood (and terribly young and innocent, face washed clean of makeup and hair loose around her shoulders), and Chan Li can't bring himself to do it. "Tiring," is all he says.  
  
Azula sniffs. "You certainly seem downtrodden. I imagine lunch with your parents didn't help."  
  
"No, it didn't." He places a hand on the small of her back, ignoring the twinge of conscience that pricks him, sharp as a needle, when she mentions parents. "They were wildly inappropriate."  
  
It serves to distract her, and Azula's eyes light up. "Really? You must tell me all about it."  
  
That night, after dinner and a gossip session, Azula curls up against him and falls asleep quickly, for once. Chan Li stays awake for most of the night, staring up at the ceiling, and struggling to breathe around the knot in his chest.  
  
-  
  
The next day dawns, and the first thing Chan Li thinks about when he wakes is that maybe he doesn't have to tell Azula at all. Maybe it would be needlessly cruel, and devastating to an already lonely young woman. Azula's security is so tight that even the best hired killers surely can't succeed. She even has tasters for her food and drink, to guard against poison. When Ozai's assassin tells him that it can't be done, or the would-be killer tries and fails, maybe Ozai will give up. Maybe he will see sense and abandon this disgusting plot without any harm being done.  
  
Chan Li holds tightly to the idea, and he visits the royal shrine every day, praying that his hopes will come to pass. In the meantime, he debates telling his father, and then rules it out almost immediately. If he tells his father, he will confront Ozai at once. Not out of any sense of affection or loyalty to his young daughter-in-law, but because if Azula is killed and Ozai takes the throne, that leaves Chan Li with nothing. The royal consort is nothing without their Fire Lord, especially since he and Azula don't have a child. His father and Ozai have been friends for decades, but Chan Li has no faith in his father's ability to talk Ozai out of this. The mere fact that his father knew the truth would put him in immediate danger, and he can't do that, not to his own father.  
  
Chan Li debates confronting Ozai. As Azula's husband, it's the right thing to do. As much as she would mock him for holding outdated and chauvinistic ideals, she is his responsibility. He should meet with Ozai, and tell him in no uncertain terms that he knows, and if Ozai doesn't call this off, if he tries _anything_ , he will inform Azula, and she will bring the full weight of the law down on his head.  
  
He tries to be brave - he's halfway to the door - before he shudders, feeling his knees actually weaken at the thought of facing the former Fire Lord. Ozai is no less fearsome without his bending. _Be a man_ , he thinks fiercely. _Have some courage, for once in your life_. But Chan Li remains rooted to the ground, apprehension coating the skin underneath his armor with cold sweat. If he says a word to Ozai, the chances are high that he could suffer a mysterious accident soon afterward.  
  
Automatically, his hand drifts to his upper right arm, giving it a squeeze. He still hasn't regained full mobility in that shoulder and arm, and he may never do so again. Could it be that Ozai had engineered the assassination attempt, the poisoned arrow? His death would leave Azula childless, ensuring that if anything happened to her, the throne would revert to her father. It would also leave the position of head of intelligence open, and able to be taken by Huan Gui - the former head of intelligence, and one of Ozai's most staunch allies.  
  
Chan Li makes his way back to his desk and collapses into the chair, gritting his teeth in frustration. If he dies, there's really nothing standing in the way of Ozai harming Azula and taking the throne. _Not like you're standing in the way, exactly_ , a cold, sarcastic voice, rather like his father's, speaks up, in the privacy of his mind. _You're standing to the side and dithering._  
  
The terrible irony in this is that he isn't a thinker, a plotter, or a schemer, unlike Azula. As a captain in the royal navy, he had always just followed the commands of the higher-ups. He can't tell anybody about this, or seek  anybody's advice. For the first time in his life, he is dealing with a situation of consequence completely on his own. And Chan Li has the sneaking suspicion that he is handling it badly.  
  
Instinct tells him that confiding in his father, or confronting Ozai and encouraging him to give up this plot, may not end well. He has no idea whether this instinct is correct or not.  
  
 _Sun Spirit, guide her and keep her safe from harm_ , Chan Li thinks, and he hopes, with every fiber of his being, that his attempt at protecting Azula won't come back to haunt them.  
  
-  
  
Azula visits the royal spa later in the week. Despite her use of only the highest-quality hair products, and regular conditioning with herbal oils, the ends of her hair still grow split and frayed every so often, necessitating a trim.  
  
Jie, her usual attendant, makes Azula comfortable in her velvet armchair. She drapes a satin sheet over her shoulders and chest, and carefully, gently undoes her elaborate hairstyle. Jie sighs, running her fingers through her hair, and Azula is reminded, painfully, of Ty Lee doing the same. "You have such lovely hair, Fire Lord."  
  
"Thank you, Jie." Azula closes her eyes, a rare gesture of trust. This particular attendant has been cutting her hair for years, and has always performed exactly as directed. "I only want two inches removed from the ends."  
  
"Of course, Fire Lord."  
  
Jie works in silence. The only sound in the room is the metallic snip of the scissors against her hair, and the rush and bubbling of the water feature in the center of the spa. The water feature is somewhat louder than normal today. Perhaps she will ask Jie to modulate it before beginning her shoulder massage.  
  
It had been a long day of meetings, and she hadn't slept well the night before. Her attention drifts, and she feels herself growing drowsy. Azula stifles a yawn, and it takes her a moment to register it when Jie's movements abruptly stop.  
  
Just as she opens her eyes, ready to give her attendant an annoyed glare, she hears Jie's body crumple to the floor.  
  
Azula reacts in an instant. Jie has some sort of odd medical condition, and the last time she had fainted, in the middle of a manicure, she had started to seize up violently, thrashing against the ground. She pushes herself out of the chair, spins around, and she freezes for just half a second, taken aback by what she sees.  
  
The sliding door to the spa is open, and there is a thin silver dart sticking out of the base of her attendant's neck. There is a masked man standing at the doorway. And worse, there are four thin knives flying right at her.  
  
-  
  
Chan Li is just in the middle of putting away his letters and reports for the day when someone almost knocks down his office door.  
  
Rao is up and barking by the time he stands up and pulls the door open, perturbed by the frantic pounding on the door. The guard who stands outside is sweating and visibly frightened, and Chan Li takes his appearance in in one glance and he knows what he is going to say before he says it.  
  
"The Fire Lord," the guard manages, without preamble. "There's been an attempt on her life. She wasn't seriously hurt, but she's in the infirmary."  
  
-  
  
He finds Azula in the same room he had been kept in, when he had been recuperating from the poisoned arrow. Unbelievably, she's sitting upright on the bed and doesn't seem to be injured. Shaken, yes, but unhurt. The royal physician is examining her head, when he crashes through the door.  
  
"Chan Li," Azula says, raising an eyebrow. "Always so dramatic."  
  
Her husband grips her by the shoulders, checking for any sign of injury, and then kisses her forehead. He wraps her in a tight hug, and Azula can't help but blush a little. She can count the number of people who have ever greeted her like this on one hand. Actually, she would only need two fingers. She taps him on the back. "You know, if I had been injured, this would only hurt me more," she says, her voice muffled by his shirt. "Are you trying to crack my ribs?"  
  
Chan Li releases her, and then looks at her and Mingyu. "You're all right? She's not hurt?"  
  
"No, your highness." Mingyu shakes her head in awe. "The Fire Lord may have some bruises and soreness in the morning, but no broken bones, and no cuts from the assassin's knives, either."  
  
"Please. Whoever commissioned that peasant sorely underestimated my abilities." Azula reaches up and touches her head ruefully. "I banged my head when I fell. That was it."  
  
Chan Li glances back to the door reflexively, making sure that the guards are still at their places. "What happened to the assassin?"  
  
"I wanted to knock him unconscious, to make sure that he could be interrogated." Azula frowns, though it makes the ache in her head worse. "So I hit his pressure points. But he started twitching and went still, and when I checked his mouth, I saw that he had knocked out one of his own teeth. A fake tooth, incidentally."  
  
Chan Li looks at the physician, taken aback. "He swallowed a hidden suicide pill?"  
  
Mingyu nods grimly. "The Fire Lord's guards examined the body, and that's what they think."  
  
"He forced his way into the spa," Azula tells him. "He neutralized my attendant. She's alive, though," she adds, as an afterthought. "I suppose he saw my reflection in the mirror while she was cutting my hair, and thought that I was asleep."  
  
Chan Li stays with her, his heart pounding, until the royal physician completes her head examination and declares that, apart from a superficial bump on the scalp, no serious damage has been done. A full phalanx of guards escorts them back to their rooms. When they reach their suite, Azula locks all the doors from the inside, after double-checking the guards' positions in front of their doors.  
  
They face one another, and Azula exhales slowly. Though her features are set, her shoulders tremble once, and Chan Li crosses the distance between them and wraps her in his arms. Even as composed as she is, when not in one of her moods, there is no way that this can't be traumatic for her. He's twice her age and hadn't been attacked at such close range, and he had still been rattled by the experience. After a moment, Azula hugs him back tentatively, as she always does.    
  
"This is getting to be a real problem," she murmurs. "First you, and now me. There haven't been back-to-back assassination attempts on the Fire Lord and their consort for decades." Azula pulls back, a shadow crossing her face. "And we couldn't get either of the assassins alive for interrogation, either. This is intolerable. I need to do something about this, just like I used the Dai Li to suppress dissent in the city."  
  
Chan Li touches her chin lightly. _Tell her_ , his mind insists, but his throat goes dry as sandpaper, refusing to obey. After all these months, he can tell that Azula's mantle of calm, now, is as thin as ice. If he says something now, the shock might be too much for her. "I don't think this will happen again," he says instead.  
  
"Why?" Azula replies, at once. "Are you trying to be reassuring?"  
  
"No. Double your security. Don't go to your practice yards alone, or the spa. Besides…" Chan Li pauses, and she can tell from the look on his face that he's thinking hard. "Whoever hired that assassin will know that the attempt failed, and that you defeated their agent. You've proved that you're near invincible on your own. If you match that with increased security, you become an even more formidable opponent. Word spreads fast around the criminal networks. I'm sure that the capital's hired killers don't want to end up dead at your hands, or those of your guards."  
  
"Hmm." Azula considers it, pacing around the area rug. There is some reason in what he's saying. "It's not a bad assessment of the situation."  
  
He smiles at her, but it doesn't reach his eyes. It's obvious that he's still worried, and she reaches out and touches his arm. Part of her feels strangely calm and detached, but the rest of her feels restless and agitated, like she wants to scream. It's an unsettling feeling. "Why don't you pour us some wine? I would like to relax." Azula hesitates. "Mix that calming draught into mine, as well."  
  
Chan Li nods and disappears into their study, where she had left the wine last time. His dog stays in the room with her, standing by her side, a strangely reassuring presence, and Chan Li is just a room away, but suddenly, she feels so alone. It's been months, and she should be past this by now, but suddenly, she misses Mai and Ty Lee by her side, her companions, her true, steadfast allies, her dangerous ladies-in-waiting. Even running around the wilderness of the Earth Kingdom and facing all manner of dangers, she had felt so safe with them, so powerful, and absolutely secure in their loyalty to her.  
  
 _The thought strikes her, sudden and unpleasant. Wherever they are now, hiding out in the wilderness with the Avatar and his gang, they would have been happy if that assassin had succeeded today._  
  
Azula puts her head in her hands, and bites back a sob.  
  
-  



	16. Part 16

Azula and Chan Li run into Ozai on their way back into the palace, after giving Rao his daily evening walk in the courtyard.  
  
They turn a corner and actually almost collide with him. Rao skitters back a few paces, hiding behind Chan Li, and Chan Li feels as though one of the nearby guards had just pulled out his sword and whacked him in the chest with it. This is the first time he's seen Prince Ozai since the Gray Man had made that report to him. It takes a moment to school his expression into something neutral and respectful, to keep his hands still by his sides, and not grab Azula by the shoulders and pull her away from her father.   
  
_This man is a threat to the Fire Lord_ , he wants to shout at the guards. _Seize him at once_. Instead, Chan Li nods and manages a quiet greeting, and his stomach turns when he looks at Ozai's face and sees nothing that indicates the truth. It's frightening.   
  
He holds his arms out to his daughter. Dutifully, she goes to him, and he kisses her lightly on the forehead, his lips barely brushing her skin, before releasing her. "The guards at your suite told me that I would find you here," he says. "How are you feeling?"  
  
Ozai's tone is perfectly caring and solicitous, and Chan Li sees Azula's shoulders relax. "I'm fine, Father. Honestly, I encountered worse skirmishes in the Earth Kingdom while I was chasing the Avatar. I didn't even need to firebend."   
  
Ozai smiles, razor-thin, and it doesn't reach his eyes. "Your fighting prowess is unmatched. You are truly a credit to our bloodline."  
  
Azula preens, visibly pleased by the compliment. Before he even realizes what he's doing, Chan Li speaks up. "Even without her guards, there's not a man alive who can defeat her." He places a hand on Azula's shoulder, keeping his tone light, pleasant, proud of his wife. "I hope whoever was responsible for this atrocity realizes that such attempts are a waste of their time."  
  
"Yes," Ozai replies, without missing a beat. "I certainly agree." He looks down at his daughter. "Azula, it's been some time since we last dined together. Perhaps the three of us could meet soon, and discuss that proposal on increasing the nobility's taxes."  
  
"Of course, Father."  
  
Ozai continues on to the courtyards, presumably for a private meeting with one of his associates. Azula watches him go, and only when he disappears from sight does she indicate for their small group - including a contingent of guards - to begin moving. For several paces, the only sound is Rao's paws clicking against the marble floors, before Azula takes his arm. "He came to see me in person, instead of sending a message through a servant," she whispers. "If he wished that the assassin had succeeded, surely he would have been too bitter to show his face."   
  
Chan Li nods, hating himself. His mind races, trying to determine whether Ozai had picked up on the message he tried to deliver. _Please_ , he prays. _Let this be the end of this disgusting business._   
  
When they reach their rooms again, he gets ready for dinner, washing his face and re-combing his hair, arranging it into a neater topknot. "Wear the citrus and herbal scent," Azula suggests, looking up from her paperwork. "I don't like that other one too much."  
  
"You can still come," he says gently, picking up the bottle of scent she had suggested. "You were invited, and I'm sure Renshu and Xue would be delighted if you joined us."  
  
Azula shrugs, looking back down at her notes. A few weeks into their marriage, he had delicately asked her if she had any friends her age she liked to spend time with, besides Mai and Ty Lee, who had chosen to ally themselves with Prince Zuko, rather than her. Azula had avoided his eyes and made a cutting remark about finding other people her age insipid and irritating. It's obvious that she misses those girls, but she hasn't shown any interest in making new friends, and she's reluctant to socialize with his friends, as well.   
  
_Once bitten, twice shy_ , Chan Li thinks ruefully. He kisses her on the top of the head,  and Azula reaches up to pat him on the hand. "Have fun," she says.   
  
She watches him leave. His royal hairpiece is crooked. Typical Chan Li. It's probably unfair of her to resent him for this; for having a close-knit circle of friends, and having such an easy time getting along with people. However, being unfair has never bothered her unduly. Life is unfair.   
  
Azula stares at her papers for a little while, before setting them aside with a sigh. This tax issue is tiresome. Raising taxes will be an unpopular move, but the nation's close to empty coffers - drained by almost a hundred years of warfare - have to be filled somehow. It might be more productive for her to read today's reports from the spy network.  
  
Azula gets up and searches the study for them. It doesn't take her long to discover that Chan Li had bought half here, and left the other half in his office. Briefly, she debates sending a servant to fetch them, and then decides against it. The information is too sensitive, and besides, she's still dressed and presentable.  
  
Her guards escort her to his office, and his guards, recognizing her on sight, let her in without question. Azula closes the door behind her, and then glances around, wincing at what she sees. Her husband definitely isn't the most organized person in the Fire Nation.  
  
She settles herself in his chair, and then begins searching for today's correspondence. Some letters are scattered over the desk, and some are settled in the nooks and shelves on the side. There are even a couple sticking out of the top drawer. Azula pulls it open and searches through the thick stack of papers. These, at least, are categorized in a sensible manner. Reports from the noble households in the north are bound with red ribbon, the south is bound with black, the east with yellow, and so on and so forth. Reports from the commoners are bound in dyed twine, and…  
  
Azula frowns, pulling another sheaf of paper free from the bottom of the pile. This stack is much thinner, and it's secured with a gold clip. A gold clip isn't part of the categorizing system, unless Chan Li had seen fit to revise the system without mentioning it to her. Without thinking twice, she removes the clip and unfolds the letters, smoothing them out on the table with both hands.  
  
She recognizes the spindly, cramped handwriting as the Gray Man's at once. Her interest piqued, she leans over the letters, instantly deciphering the code.   
  
The first letter is short. _The word is spreading that the Phoenix survived. I will let you know at once if the one we discussed visits the building of shadows again._  
  
Azula's brows draw together. "What?" she mutters.   
  
She tosses the first letter aside, and glances at the second, and then the third--  
  
She drops it, as if burned.   
  
For a second, she's frozen, numb, and then her palms start to sweat and her heart starts beating too fast. Slowly, deliberately, Azula picks up the third, crumpled piece of parchment again and reads it. Once, twice, again.   
  
Her stomach heaves, sudden and violent, and she almost screams.  
  
-  
  
Azula isn't sure how she makes it back to her rooms. For a while, she had just sat there, and then she must have made some sound, because a guard burst in and asked if she was all right. She doesn't remember replying, but she faintly remembers walking back with the guards, feeling as though the walls were closing in on her, monsters erupting from the shadows, their claws bared to tear her open.  
  
When she gets to her rooms, one of the guards asks her, again, if she's all right. If she wants something cool to be sent up from the kitchens. _Fire Lord, you're sweating._  
  
She doesn't remember saying anything, but she had stumbled into her sitting room and grabbed the first thing her hands had found - a cushion - and screamed into it, long and howling.  
  
She doesn't cry. Her knees wobble, and she sits on the edge of the sofa, and her father had hired the assassin. And Chan Li knew, and he didn't say anything to her. Not to warn her about the upcoming assassination attempt, and he didn't say it was her father when he knew it was. It's because he wants her to die so he can be free of her, and she was right all along about him. Chan Li deceived her, just like Ty Lee did.   
  
And she was right about her father too. He hates her so much that he doesn't just want to leave her, like he had done when he made himself Phoenix King, like her mother had, but he hates her so much that he wants to _kill_ her.   
  
Azula's chest hurts, and she knows her breathing sounds all wrong, high-pitched and whimpering, but she doesn't cry. She sits, and waits.  
  
-  
  
Chan Li returns late, and the second he steps into the dark sitting room, Azula throws a vase at him.  
  
It misses his face by an inch, shattering against the wall behind him. As soon as it registers, as soon as he sees the look on her face and the unconcealed fury in her body language, he knows. "Oh--"  
  
"Traitor!" A wineglass follows,  smashing against the wall next to him - Azula is shaking so hard her aim is off - and he throws his arms up to cover his face. "You've been conspiring against me! I'll throw you in the Boiling Rock and I'll leave you there for the rest of your miserable life! I _trusted_ you!"  
  
"Azula, no." He's pleading, unashamed, and he holds his trembling hands up, thanking the spirits that she hadn't attacked him with fire or lightning. It could happen at any moment now. Even during the rebellion earlier in the year, he has never seen her this livid with rage, her hands balled into white-knuckled fists, and Chan Li speaks faster, the words tripping over each other in his haste. "Please, that's not true, I swear it. I swear it on my parents' life, on Chan's, on the spirits. I never betrayed you. I would never betray you."    
  
Something - maybe knowing the depth of his love for his younger brother - makes her hesitate. Azula rakes her hair away from her face with a shaking hand, still visibly seething. The flames in the fireplace are hissing and sparking, leaping out of control in response to her emotion, and Chan Li realizes that he hasn't been this afraid in years. It takes all of his self-control not to cower behind the sofa, or a bookshelf--  
  
"You knew that my father hired an assassin," she says slowly, her voice uneven. "You knew, and you didn't tell me. That sounds an awful lot like betrayal to me. That sounds like conspiring to commit regicide, or at least to be an accessory to it."  
  
Chan Li shudders. "That's not true. I just - I should have told you, I know, but I couldn't."  
  
"Why?" Azula shoots back, stepping away from him. Belatedly, he realizes that she smells of wine. "Because you swore an oath of silence to my father?"  
  
"No!" he yells. "I couldn't bear it, Azula. I couldn't bear to tell you that your only parent wanted to do that to you."   
  
He looks into her eyes so she can see the truth there, and she steps back again, as if burned by it. "If that is the truth, you're softer than I thought," she hisses. "Pathetic. You should have just told--" Azula's voice cracks, and she turns away hastily. "How could you, Chan Li? How could you lie to me about this? I saw him today. I let him look at me, and hug me, and kiss me. And you just stood there and you didn't say anything."   
  
Instinct makes him reach out to her, and Chan Li pulls his hand back at once. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I was just trying to protect you. Nobody should have to hear that their own father…"   
  
Azula scoffs, wiping at the corner of her eyes with the heels of her hands. "I should have known I was making a mistake," she says, almost to herself. "Becoming fond of you, letting you… This is the same thing that happened with Ty Lee. But no matter," she says briskly, her entire manner changing, before he can say a word. "I can deal with this after I make the necessary arrangements for the traitor's immediate arrest and execution."  
  
She looks around the sitting room, presumably for paper and a pen to draw up the arrest order, her gaze glassy and unfocused. Chan Li tenses up even more. "What?"  
  
"Do not argue with me on this," Azula says, through gritted teeth, her back to him. "When you insisted on executing Lord Tenshi, I told you that I would deal with the next traitor my way. And you agreed."   
  
"Yes, but--" Chan Li stammers, trying to come to terms with the shock. "This is your own father! You can't have him killed."  
  
She turns on him, outraged, and clenches her fists - but doesn't bring fire to them. "There is nothing I _can't_ do. Remember that. What would you have me do, then, if you find this so repulsive?"  
  
"Imprison him for life," Chan Li replies, without hesitation. "Leave him there to rot."   
  
"No! That will do nothing! As long as he lives, he is a threat to my peace and the peace of this nation." Azula paces, restless and agitated, and grips at her hair furiously. "He wanted to _kill_ me, and you still insist on being as toothless and pacifistic as ever! Why didn't you go and moralize at him, instead of turning this on me? I'm justified in wanting to do this."  
  
"It's _kinslaying_ , Azula," he says, horrified. "What he wanted to do to you was vile and immoral, but you don't have to compromise your own--"  
  
"He tried to kill me, and I will have his head for it!" Azula yells, visibly beside herself, closer to tears than Chan Li has ever seen her. "I don't care if the spirits curse me for it! I am sick and tired of being betrayed by those closest to me!"  
  
"Azula…" He moves toward her slowly, placatingly, and she jerks back, turning away.   
  
"No! Spare me your poor advice, Chan Li. If you aren't going to support me in this, then I can't have you by my side."  
  
Chan Li barely hears her. "I can't let you do something that you'll regret," he says, truly raising his voice, for the first time they have known one another. "This will haunt you for the rest of your life. Have you ever even killed anybody before?"  
  
"You don't _let_ me do anything," Azula interrupts, her back to him, her voice brittle and fragile as spun glass. "You are under exile, effective immediately. I want you out of the palace by dawn. Go back to your home, visit your younger brother at the Royal Academy, find your old ship and go to sea, I don't care. Just leave, and do not return until I summon you. If you aren't gone by the time I come out, I will have the guards forcibly remove you."   
  
Chan Li couldn't have been more surprised if she had slapped him. "Azula," he says, stunned.  
  
" _Go_ ," she orders, before stumbling to their bedroom, slamming the heavy door shut behind her. He hears it lock, and then he hears a quickly stifled sob.   
  
-  
  



	17. Part 17

It takes a long time for the shuddering and shaking to subside.   
  
When she can finally breathe properly again, Azula pushes herself upright, and drags herself out of bed. She cracks the bedroom door open, cautiously looking into the sitting room. Chan Li and his dog are gone. Good. That's one less obstacle for her to deal with. She can put him out of her head, where he belongs.   
  
It's dark, and she almost steps on the shards of the wineglass and the vase she had thrown, as she stumbles to the study, her hand trailing against the wall. Azula grabs a sheet of parchment off the desk and writes the order for her father's arrest, on the grounds of treason and attempted regicide. As hard as she tries to keep her hand steady, her handwriting is shaky and hardly legible, a far cry from her usual beautiful penmanship.   
  
Azula finds the three documents she had bought from Chan Li's study, the letters from the Gray Man confirming her father's role in the assassination attempt. She rolls the letters up with the arrest document and secures it with a strand of ribbon. Her breathing sounds harsh and loud to her own ears, despite her efforts to modulate it, and she doesn't even bother looking for her royal seal.   
  
Azula stands in the middle of the sitting room, her hand pressed to her aching chest. Part of her wants to lead the guards to her father's room and serve him with the arrest order in person, despite how her vision is swimming a little, making it hard for her to see straight. But one glance in the mirror confirms that her eyes are red and swollen, and that won't do. He shouldn't see how upset she is.   
  
It's better this way. It's better that her guards drag him from his bed in the middle of the night, without even giving him a chance to change his clothes. He deserves this indignity, and he deserves a thousand things worse than this. _All in time_ , Azula tries to reassure herself. _All in time_.  
  
She throws her door open, visibly startling the four guards that stand outside. They all look tense and worried. _Of course_ , she realizes belatedly. They would have heard her throw the things at Chan Li, heard them arguing, and then seen Chan Li leave. Normally, the thought of guards witnessing a personal dispute - and surely gossiping about it later - would appall her, but tonight, she feels nothing.   
  
The guards bow to her hastily. "Fire Lord," one of them says tentatively, as he straightens. "Are you all right?"  
  
It is maddening, but the question makes her eyes burn with tears. Azula ignores it, holding out the arrest warrant. "Serve this at once. I want Prince Ozai taken to the highest-security cell in the dungeons, and I want him monitored _constantly_. Do you understand me?"  
  
By their reaction, one would think that she had slapped the guard across the face. They stare, unabashed, for a second, and then quickly remember their places. One of the guards takes the arrest warrant, his gloved hand trembling a little, and he bows deeply. "Yes, Fire Lord."  
  
He and a companion set off in the direction of her father's quarters, moving so quickly that they are almost running. The two remaining guards, clearly at a loss for words, immediately move into position on either side of her door. "F-Fire Lord," one of them stammers. "Do you want us to summon Li and Lo?"  
  
That is probably the appropriate course of action. But they will want to talk to her, they will demand proof, they will ask her what she intends to do, and then they will make her rehash everything that has happened tonight over and over again - and she can't talk right now. Even the thought of it makes her stomach turn. It's too raw, and she's hurting from the inside out.   
  
"No," Azula manages. "I will speak to them in the morning. You may let them in if they come to call then."  
  
The guards say something that she doesn't quite hear, and Azula retreats inside, closing the door and locking it. She leans against it, suddenly too exhausted to move a step further. She's still wearing her Fire Lord robes, and they are wrinkled. The feelings surging up inside her are frightening in their intensity, disturbing and horrible, and just like the ones she'd had in the aftermath of Mai and Ty Lee's betrayal. But worse. Even worse. The thoughts, the bad thoughts--  
  
She wants to scream again, or throw up, or cry. Her palms itch to firebend, and her fingers ache to summon lightning. It had been this way last time, too. The desire to reduce everything around her to blazes, ashes, rubble. _No_ , Azula tells herself, struggling to maintain control. _I won't._  
  
Somehow, she makes her way to the study. She finds one of the intact wineglasses and a half-empty bottle of wine, and pours herself a glass so full that it threatens to overflow. Azula searches, pushing papers and books around ineffectively, until she finally finds the small bottle of calming draught.   
  
Five drops, the physician had told her. She adds twice that into her wine, and drinks the whole glass in a few gulps, ignoring the little bit that splashes onto her chin and down her front.  
  
Azula barely makes it back to the sofa on the sitting room before she collapses.  
  
-  
  
She is woken up by Li and Lo's spindly, almost skeletal hands, gently shaking her by the shoulders.  
  
It is not the best way to wake up. Azula stares at them blearily as they help her upright on the sofa. The old women are clearly in a panic. "What happened?" Lo demands.  
  
"The entire palace is talking about it. They're saying the most dreadful things--"  
  
"Where is Prince Chan Li?"  
  
"What on earth happened here?" Li, horrified, looks at the fragments of glass and vase lying on the carpet.   
  
"Fire Lord, have you been _drinking_?"  
  
Azula strides out of the room without a word, silently grateful that her steps don't falter. She makes them wait as she freshens up in the bathroom and changes into a new set of robes. She combs her hair and stares at her reflection in the mirror, feeling strangely detached. Her eyes still aren't back to normal, but otherwise, she looks composed enough. Last night, she had been weak. That weakness is unacceptable. She needs to be strong, and handle this like a Fire Lord.  
  
As soon as she steps out of the bathroom, Li and Lo are in front of her, looking somber. Maybe they were afraid she would hang herself with a bath towel, or something of the sort. "Fire Lord--" Li begins.   
  
"Yes, I know. You would like to know whether whatever rumors you heard are true. Prince Ozai was arrested last night, on the grounds of committing treason and conspiring to commit regicide." Azula takes a deep breath, pleased by the flawless steadiness of her voice. "Prince Chan Li found incontrovertible proof that my father hired the assassin who recently attempted to kill me."  
  
Li and Lo's jaws drop in unison. Under different circumstances, it would have been amusing. She only has a couple of seconds of respite before they start talking at once.   
  
Fielding their questions gives her a headache, even after a servant comes scurrying in, holding a tray of breakfast and a cold drink. Azula sips the chilled water, trying not to fume at the fact that her advisors seem to think she is either delusional, or fabricating evidence against her father. It hurts that even they think so little of her, but it easier to cover the hurt with anger. She had expected more from them, and it seems that she had been a fool to do so. _The story of my life_ , Azula thinks bitterly, wishing that the glass of water she holds was something stronger.   
  
"What do you intend to do now?" Lo finally asks.   
  
Azula glances down at her fingernails. Her manicure is chipped. She must have been picking at the polish last night. "The traitor must be punished for his crimes. The sooner he is executed, the sooner I can return to my duties as Fire Lord."  
  
Their reaction is so predictable. They recoil, looking at her like she's some kind of monster. It's an expression that she has seen on the face of everyone she has ever known, and honestly, it's getting a little old.   
  
"You can't," Li says immediately.   
  
Azula sighs. It's tiring, having this conversation over and over again. "I can," she replies, not-so-patiently. "I am the Fire Lord. I will do what I wish."   
  
"He's your father--"  
  
"Imprisonment would be preferable, or even exile--"  
  
"I don't think so," Azula says sharply. "Letting him out of my sight is the biggest mistake I can make. Imprisonment is a poor option, as well. My history lessons have taught me that an imprisoned enemy can still cause a great deal of trouble. Do not make the mistake of assuming that I haven't thought this through."   
  
Li and Lo ignore her. "Fire Lord, I know you're upset, but you must see sense--"  
  
That is the last straw. Azula snaps, slamming her glass of water down so hard that it almost shatters. "How dare you question my authority?" she demands. "I am your ruler. Did you ever presume to talk to my father like this, when he was the Fire Lord? Or my grandfather?"   
  
Li and Lo are silent, ashen, and she glares at them. "I think not."  
  
Lo moistens her dry lips. "Fire Lord, please--"  
  
"Silence!" Azula yells, and before she realizes it, she's on her feet. She wants to shake both of them, or grab them by the hair and slam their heads together. "I will not have you pleading for mercy for a man who wanted to have me killed." Her voice almost cracks, but she continues. "As a matter of fact, both of you must have wanted my father to succeed. Don't think I don't know where your loyalties truly lie. The fact that you would attempt to argue for a lesser sentence for him, after what he's done, is confirmation enough."   
  
They don't even protest. They just look at each other out of the corner of their eyes, and Azula sees what's in that look. The same thing that people have been saying about her behind her back for months, now. _She's crazy, insane, paranoid._  
  
And it makes her see red.  
  
"Get out at once," she commands, turning her back to them, before she can do something drastic. It's nothing that they don't deserve, but she doesn't want to make a mess, or give the palace anything more to gossip about. "You are both under exile. I don't want to see you in the capital city again."  
  
Li and Lo shuffle out. Once they are gone, Azula takes a few deep breaths, struggling to calm herself.  
  
She visits the practice yards. Her lightning is savage and erratic today, not like it usually is. The fire she produces, bursting out in wild, uncontrollable spurts from her fists, palms, feet, is brilliant blue, but even that color, the color of her own power, brings her no comfort today. If she were less strong, if she were less powerful, if her flames were as orange as Zuko's and Lu Ten's were, they wouldn't fear her and hate her, as they do now.   
  
Her own father. Even her own father, who had raised her to be this way, had turned against her, frightened and horrified by what he had created. _He wanted to have new children_ , Azula realizes, thinking back to her father's potential courtship of Lady Nuying. The realization doesn't bring more than a dull ache. She's hurt enough over the past several hours. _He wanted to try again, for a more malleable, agreeable heir_.   
  
Azula strikes out, over and over again, imagining that she is striking him. And her useless mother, for never loving her and leaving her with him, and Zuko, for always being their mother's stupid little favorite, and not her ally. And Li and Lo, who have trained her since she was a small girl, and don't seem to give a damn that her father wanted to have her killed, and Ty Lee and Mai, who left her too, without looking back. Mai had chosen Zuko over her, and Ty Lee had chosen _Mai_ over her. And even soft, useless Chan Li, with his stupid moralizing, who had kept the truth from her, and who now thinks she is a monster too.  
  
She stays on the practice grounds for hours, until her clothes stick to her with sweat, until her legs tremble and threaten to give out beneath her. Her body is exhausted, but the heat inside her hasn't burned out.   
  
Azula takes a bath, hoping that it will soothe her. It does not. After a mere few bites of lunch, she drops the savory pastry back on its plate, and then storms out the door. "Come with me," she tells her guards. "I wish to pay my father a visit."  
  
They look at one another as if they would advise her against it, but they say nothing. They escort her to the palace dungeons in silence, down to the darkest, coldest part of the underground prison. The rocks are damp and slimy, and she is careful not to slip.   
  
Four guards stand outside her father's tiny cell. "You may leave us," Azula orders. "I have nothing to fear from an unarmed, restrained non-bender."  
  
They reluctantly move down the narrow hallway, and Azula lights the nearby torch with one casual flick of her wrist. Her father is barely visible in the gloom; sitting in the back corner of the cell, and wearing a robe over his nightclothes. His back is straight, his face an expressionless mask.   
  
Maybe he had expected her to rage, to weep, to demand an explanation, to beg him to say that it couldn't possibly be true. Azula says nothing. She just looks at him coldly. She will give him no satisfaction.   
  
Finally, Ozai is the one to break the silence. "I made a terrible mistake," he says quietly. "I don't know what I was thinking. I was blinded by my own jealousy and lust for power. I regret it, Azula."  
  
"Do you," Azula replies, in a tone so bored and dispassionate it would have made Mai proud, once.  
  
Her father bows his head to her, for the first time. "I do. I promise you, I will leave court. I will leave the Fire Nation, and I will take nothing with me. You will never hear from me again. You are my only child, and I will do whatever I can to make amends."  
  
Azula takes a few steps closer to the cell, her footfalls echoing in the enclosed space. "Liar," she says, without missing a beat. Ozai looks up slowly, his golden eyes meeting hers. "If you expect mercy from me because I am a woman, or because I am your daughter, you are dead wrong. I do not have a gentle heart. You, of all people, should know that."  
  
In spite of her best efforts to hold it back, to keep the wall up, when her father looks at her, she remembers being small and holding his hand as they walked down the coastline at Ember Island together, and proudly presenting her drawings of dragons and fire to him, and how he had smiled and taken them from her--  
  
The pain in her chest is so sharp that she wonders if this is what dying feels like. _It didn't have to be this way_ , she wants to shout. _You were the one who ruined everything, not me. You leave me no choice._   
  
"For the rest of your life, you will regret the day you made me your enemy." The words fall between them, soft and clear, and Azula pauses. "Not that the rest of your life will be much longer."   
  
She turns away sharply, unable to bear looking at him for a moment longer. "Azula," her father calls.  
  
She walks away without looking back, ignoring the temptation to turn, through every nerve in her body wants to run away from this nightmare. As soon as she clears the hallway, she does run, almost tripping up the stairs, until the secret entrance back to the palace becomes visible.  
  
-  
  
Azula doesn't know where her guards are. She must have lost them somewhere. No matter, though. The person responsible for sending an assassin after her is locked up. The other people who want her dead probably haven't had enough time to mobilize yet, in the aftermath of the recent attempt. For now, she is safe in her own home.   
  
She wanders the hallways, remembering when she was younger, and would make her way through them with Ty Lee and Mai at her side. That was back when she had been her father's favorite child, his precious princess.   
  
Somehow, she ends up outside her father's former suite. On impulse, Azula kicks the door open and makes her way inside, taking in the austere surroundings. The bed is still unmade, from when the guards had dragged him out. The dark wood-paneled walls in the bedroom are free of any personal touches, and Azula moves into the study, almost automatically. The study and the office attached to the throne room are where she and her father had always spent the most time together, more so than even the firebending courts. That was where he had given her lessons and lectures on politics and ruling, and she always looked forward to those mornings and afternoons.  
  
She goes through her father's papers, now, moving with numb, single-minded efficiency. She rifles through the papers on the desks, pulls drawers open and searches through them, and shakes loose sheets of parchment free of books.   
  
Azula doesn't realize what she's looking for until she doesn't find it. There are no traces of her at all in the study. Nothing that would even indicate she exists. She had given her father drawings, when she was a child, and he had taken them with a smile, and there are none of them here. There are no small, framed family portraits, or even a single one of her annual birthday portraits. She can't even find the books she had given him for his birthday and the new year celebrations, every year since she was eight.  
  
It is so foolish of her to even care, foolish and sentimental, but she does, and her face is wet. Azula lashes out before she can stop herself, and the next thing she knows, the desk is on fire. The blaze spreads quickly, igniting all her father's precious papers, blackening and devouring them. The sight is intoxicating, even better than her sedative-laced wine.  
  
The rest of the furniture goes up in flames next. Azula directs a shot at the curtains, the wine cabinet, the bed, and within a couple of minutes, the whole room is ablaze. The flames crackle and lick at the walls, eating the wood, inching along the priceless rug. Azula just stands and watches and breathes it in, feeling satisfied and detached all at once. Fire is so beautiful. So cleansing, so cauterizing.   
  
She hears shouting, as if from a great distance. Azula tears her gaze away from the burning walls just in time to see a few guards charging into the room, yelling in dismay. Two of them try to put out the fire, to no avail. The last actually puts a gentle hand on her shoulder and carefully guides her out of the room, despite her digging her heels in. "Fire Lord," he says, as if she were a small child. "That was dangerous. You could have been hurt."   
  
"Don't be ridiculous," Azula replies calmly, turning to catch a last glimpse of the fire raging inside her father's rooms. "Fire cannot burn a dragon."  
  
The guard is joined by another, and they escort her back to her suite. Azula stares around the empty rooms, and somehow, she ends up sitting on the floor, her knees pulled to her chest, forehead resting on the top of her knees.  
  
 _Let him live_ , Chan Li had said, and Li and Lo had echoed the sentiment. Chan Li had asked her if she had ever killed a man. She hasn't, not to her knowledge, but…  
  
Traitors deserve to die. And her father had hurt her very badly.  
  
Azula tilts her head back against the wall, and hardens her heart.  
  
After some time has passed, she stands and goes outside to find her guards. They immediately look wary, worried, and she hates it. Everybody in this entire palace looks at her and treats her as if she is deeply unstable. _Is this what I have become?_   
  
"Inform the appropriate people to prepare for a council meeting tomorrow," she tells them. "And an execution the day after."  
  
Azula picks at her dinner, before turning to the now-familiar solace of a bottle of wine. A decent servant has been silently replacing her bottles, without comment.   
  
For some reason, in the time between taking her last sip of wine, and the moment when sleep claims her, Azula thinks of Ty Lee. She tries not to, normally, but this time, she can't help herself. _Where are you?_ she thinks. _I wish you were here with me_. If anyone could make this easier, it would be Ty Lee.  
  
She cries until she falls asleep.  
  
-  
  
The mood at the council meeting the next morning is somber, and everybody is largely silent. Her advisors and the lords take one look at her, and glance back to the table before them, unable to meet her eyes, and not a single one dares to argue against Prince Ozai's impending execution. Not even his staunchest allies, and not even Chan Li's father, who has been her father's friend since before she was born.  
  
Azula smiles, thin and brittle. "Gentlemen," she says. "I am pleased that we could see eye-to-eye on this."  
  
-  
  
She doesn't sleep well (barely sleeps at all) that night, and wakes early the next morning. She manages to eat breakfast. The servants who bring her the food, and the maids who dress her and pin up her hair, can't seem to look her in the eye.  
  
She had ordered that everybody currently at court should attend the event. Azula reaches her throne room before all of them, and ignites her wall of blue flames. She breathes deeply as the members of court arrive, filing inside the vast throne room in silence, escorted in by her guards. There is an eerie hush in the room. It's like everybody is afraid to breathe.   
  
The quiet is broken by the arrival of the warden. He strides up to her throne and bows deeply. "The prisoner is ready, Fire Lord."  
  
Azula struggles to draw breath around the tightness in her chest. For some reason, she remembers the last time she had received a prisoner in this room. Chan Li had stood at her back, a silent but oddly reassuring presence, and she feels the lack of him now. "Send him in."  
  
Her voice rings out and echoes around the throne room, clear and imperious. The double doors swing open, and the guards bring her father inside. There is no need to drag him, as they had dragged Lord Tenshi, months ago. Ozai walks of his own power, his steps slow and deliberate, head held high, straight-backed and proud. He walks as if he were still Fire Lord, on the way to his rightful throne. It has a visible impact on the court, and Azula fights to keep her face still.   
  
He doesn't kneel before her, an act of petty defiance. She can only imagine how he must have resented kneeling to her, bowing his head to her, before. Her guards roughly push him to his knees, and he lands without flinching.   
  
"Warden," Azula calls, determinedly refusing to look at the prisoner. "You may state the traitor's crimes."  
  
The warden bows deeply, clears his throat, and begins speaking. His voice is low and raspy, a result of a dagger across the throat that had nearly killed him twenty years ago, when he had still been a mere prison guard. "The former Prince Ozai is charged with treason of the highest order, plotting regicide against the Fire Lord. The evidence against him is overwhelming."  
  
"To plan the murder of the Fire Lord is a crime against the Fire Nation, as well as the spirits. To plan the murder of your own kin is doubly cursed." Azula stands, feeling the eyes of the court on her, like a tangible weight. "Have you anything to say for yourself, traitor?"  
  
"And yet you have planned my execution." Her father's voice is just as steady as hers, and she hears a few gasps from the court. "How hypocritical of you."  
  
Azula seethes, trying to ignore the rash of muttering that has broken out among the court. "This is justice," she snarls. "Any father who harms his daughter, throughout the Fire Nation, should face the same punishment."  
  
Her father dares to spread his arms placatingly. "It's not too late, Azula. Nobody would think any less of you for turning away from this unnatural path. Pardon me. Exile me. Anything but this."  
  
The whispers and murmurs from the court are louder now. He's making her look the villain in this, and turning himself into the victim, and it is intolerable. Azula curls her hands into fists, looking down at him, and she feels no conflict in this moment, no hesitation, as she had feared. "I will show you no mercy," she says coldly. "Do you have any last words?"   
  
Ozai actually sneers up at her, and the sight makes Azula's vision streak red with rage. "What are you going to do, daughter?" he asks, with false solicitousness, a cruel taunt. "Are you going to strike down your unarmed, defenseless father with that blue fire of yours? Or will it be your lightning?"  
  
Azula had resolved to remain calm, to not reveal the slightest crack in her composure in front of the entire court, but a muscle in her jaw twitches. He doesn't believe it. He doesn't believe her. He thinks that she will falter, that she will be weak, that she will send him out of this room with his life, and he will have won again. He never knew at her at all.   
  
The wall of flames behind her leaps, wild and out of control, and she hears more than a few gasps and screams from the court. Azula moves her hands into the position she knows so well, taking a deep breath. The air around her sizzles, and she can see nothing but her father - the _traitor_ , kneeling before her.  
  
"Oh," she says, and to her surprise, her voice is calm. "I'll show _you_ lightning."  
  
-  
  
It only takes three seconds. When it is over, the smell of singed flesh pervades the throne room, and there is screaming, fainting, children sobbing-- Someone vomits, even.  
  
Azula folds her hands behind her back and watches impassively as the guards drag the body from the room. It makes an odd noise against the floor as it moves. Half the court is staring, unable to look away. The other half has their faces hidden in their hands, behind fans, or are staring at the ground, sickened.   
  
When the guards have left, she clears her throat, and the room falls quiet. Azula stares at them, through narrowed eyes. There isn't a single face before her that doesn't show fear. She feels powerful. She feels alone.   
  
"Such is the fate of those who commit treason," she says impassively. "Remember it. You are all dismissed."  
  
-

_to be continued_

-  
   
(Some of you may recognize a couple of lines in this chapter, "Fire cannot kill a dragon," and "I do not have a gentle heart," from Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire. This story was inspired by ASOIAF, especially when it comes to parallels between Azula, Cersei, and Daenerys. To those of you who haven't read the ASOIAF books, I definitely recommend them for many reasons, including the books' portrayal of complex, dynamic, ambitious female characters.)   
  



	18. Part 18

The weather is exceptionally bad today.  
  
There is a storm brewing on the horizon. Chan Li can feel it inside him, and smell it in the air, in the wind that pulls strands of hair free of his topknot and makes his ship list to the side ever so slightly. It's visible in the color of the sea and the sky, a heavy, ominous gray. He rests his hands on the side of the ship and watches the messenger raven above being buffeted by the wind, struggling to land on his friend Renshu's outstretched arm. Renshu is actually squawking at the raven, trying to encourage or motivate it, perhaps by imitating a mating call.  
  
Finally, the poor bird makes it. The seal stamped across the scroll tied to its leg isn't the royal seal, or that of his parents. Chan Li turns away to give his friend some privacy, ignoring the disappointment and worry that surges in him along with the next rough wave.   
  
"Is everything all right?" he asks, raising his voice a little. "If Xue wants you back, I can…"  
  
Chan Li glances at his friend, and the words die in his throat. Renshu is pale, his eyes wide with shock, and he stares at the parchment in his hands as if it might grow fangs and bite him. Silently, Chan Li curses himself for doing this, for dragging Renshu out with him in the middle of his wife's pregnancy. "I'm sorry," he blurts, moving toward the wheel. "Is Xue all right? I'll turn us around right now."  
  
Renshu shakes his head, dazed. "It's not Xue. She's fine. It's…" He swallows, once, twice. He looks nervous, and Renshu is never nervous. The two of them used to do the stupidest things in the academy and before Renshu got married. Chan Li had always been the one prone to nerves, to cold feet.  
  
"What is it?" Chan Li demands. The second he speaks, the first thing that comes to mind is--  
  
"The Fire Lord executed Prince Ozai," Renshu says quietly. "Yesterday. For treason."  
  
Chan Li opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. His thoughts have slowed, blurring into one horrifying, steady loop of _The Fire Lord executed Prince Ozai_ , over and over again. "No," he manages. If his father were here, he would have rebuked him for the stammer.  
  
Renshu looks a bit ill, as he holds the parchment out to him. "Fire Lord Azula ordered that the court be in attendance. Xue saw it herself."   
  
Chan Li closes his eyes. _Please_ , he prays, _let this be a nightmare_. "Tell me that the executioner did it," he pleads, but he knows that it's no use. _I will deal with the next traitor my way,_ Azula had decreed, and he could guess what her way entailed. Fire, or lightning. In front of the whole court, too. This is even worse than he had imagined.  
  
He sees the answer in Renshu's face. "I'm sorry," is all his friend can offer, soft and almost helpless.   
  
The details might be on the parchment, written in Xue's neat hand, but he can't bear to look. He might be sick. Chan Li closes his eyes again and takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. He can feel Renshu patting him on the shoulder tentatively.  
  
He knows what he has to do. There has been no royal summons, but it can't be helped. Dread is a cold stone inside him, sinking from his throat into his chest. It is the last thing he wants to do. He wants to stay on this ship and sail somewhere far, far away from the Fire Nation capital and court and politics and the serpent's den that is the royal family. It would be so easy.  
  
 _There is no royal family now_ , he realizes. Ozai is dead. Ursa, Iroh, and Zuko are gone. Undoubtedly, they would meet the same fate as Ozai if they ever return. There is just Azula. One girl, alone.   
  
Would she even miss him, if he never returned? Maybe she would be glad to be released from a marriage that she had never wanted; a marriage that her traitorous father had engineered. She had certainly seemed angry enough when they had last spoken. _I'll deal with you later_ , Azula had said, and he wonders what that entails. The Boiling Rock? Or the same sentence that had awaited Ozai?   
  
She had asked him to leave, after all. She had sent him into indefinite exile. Perhaps it would be best to disappear.   
  
It is tempting, and Chan Li wavers. In the next moment, the impulse passes. _Family, duty, honor_. The words that all Fire Nation children are raised with are as much a part of him as his own blood and bones. He had vowed his allegiance to the Fire Lord, and made other vows to Azula - to always honor, protect, and care for her - at their marriage ceremony. He won't cast his words aside as if they were a handful of dust. His parents and teachers had taught him better than that.   
  
"Turn the ship around," Chan Li says, ignoring the alarmed look that Renshu sends him. "We have to go back to the capital."  
  
-  
  
The seas are rough, and the journey back takes almost a week. When they stop for provisions, against his better judgment, Chan Li removes his royal hairpiece and pulls the hood of his dark cloak low over his head, and walks around the town. He visits the tavern, the marketplace, and a small eatery. No matter where he goes or what streets he passes through, the talk about what has taken place in the capital is the same.  
  
 _Cursed is the kinslayer,_ people say, in hushed, fearful voices, and it makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. _She will pay for this. Prince Ozai's spirit will wreak his vengeance on her._ Even worse are the rumors going around that the Fire Lord is being possessed by evil spirits, and that they are the ones that influenced her to do this. Otherwise, how could a daughter personally execute her own father?  
  
"She needs to have the spirits purged from her," Chan Li overhears one man saying, outside of a traditional medicine shop. In the tavern, another says loudly that doom will come to the Fire Nation if the Fire Lord continues to be in the thrall of dark spirits, and the murmurs of agreement that follow send a shiver down Chan Li's spine. The populace of the Fire Nation is dangerously superstitious, especially among the commoners. Just a few months ago, Azula had passed a mandate outlawing the dangerous rituals intended to "exorcise dark spirits." She has never been popular among the people, true, due to her youth and gender, but it doesn't bode well that they're talking about vengeful spirits and kinslaying and curses.   
  
At the end of the night, he returns to the ship and sits with his head in his hands until well past midnight, with Rao curled up in a forlorn ball at his feet.

-  
  
The mood in the capital, when they arrive, is even worse. There's a stillness and tension hanging over the city. Fear. It makes his stomach tie up in knots. Chan Li hadn't thought it was possible, but the palace is even more subdued, an eerie hush in the air. It looks empty. The courtyards and gardens are deserted, free of the noblemen and ladies that usually take dinner or walk outdoors. Inside, the few people walking about speak softly and look over their shoulders often.   
  
Chan Li walks Renshu back to the rooms he shares with his wife, and he bows his head. "Thank you for everything. It means a lot to me."  
  
"Don't thank me. Anytime you need me, I'm here." His words are sincere, but his old friend looks ill at ease. Finally, Renshu reaches out and clasps his arm awkwardly. "Be careful, Chan Li."  
  
The words startle him. Renshu's meaning couldn't be more clear, though it takes a few moments to register. His friend really thinks that Azula, a girl half his age, could be a danger to him.   
  
…And she is the most powerful person in the Fire Nation, who had personally executed her own father. _Unstable_ , the less superstitious people are saying. _She's gone mad._  
  
It's clear that Renshu harbors the same doubts. He should take offense on Azula's behalf, but under the circumstances, Chan Li can't bring himself to argue with his friend. He inclines his head. "I will."  
  
He and Rao proceed, alone, to the royal suite. There are four guards posted outside each of the two entrances to the suite, their long spears crossed in front of the doors. Even through the helmets, they look startled to see him approach. Startled, and uneasy. Chan Li stops a safe distance away, and he thinks he has never been more conscious of the fact that every single one of the royal guards is sworn not to the Fire Lord and their consort - only to the Fire Lord. Azula could have ordered them to arrest him on sight.   
  
He inclines his head politely. "Gentlemen. May I enter?"  
  
The guards exchange wary looks. "The Fire Lord didn't tell us to expect you," one of them says gruffly, at last.  
  
Another nods, his fingers tightening around his spear. "Fire Lord Azula hasn't lifted your exile. She would have notified us if she did."  
  
If his father were here, Admiral Chan would have shouted and pitched a fit, or used his rank to attempt intimidating the guards out of the way. The prospect seems too tiring, and in bad taste, besides. "I am the last person on earth who would ever harm the Fire Lord," Chan Li says bluntly. "Please. Let me in."  
  
The guards don't budge, and it makes him wonder if he will have to beg, or possibly submit to a chi-blocking to neutralize his firebending and make him less of a threat. As if he could ever be a threat to Azula. She could defeat him in single combat, bending or non-bending, with one hand tied behind her back, and suddenly, he realizes what the problem here is.   
  
"I'll make sure you don't get punished," Chan Li says hastily, in a moment of inspiration. "If I get thrown out or arrested, I'll tell the Fire Lord that I'll take double the punishment, so you don't face any consequences. I give you my word."  
  
The guards exchange another look. Finally, reluctantly, they step aside, leaving barely enough room for him and Rao to pass. Chan Li feels their gazes boring a hole into his back as he does. If he makes one wrong step and Azula calls for them, he'll be knocked unconscious - or worse - before he can even think of defending himself.  
  
It's with a sense of relief that Chan Li closes the heavy wooden door behind him, separating him from the guards. The study is dark and quiet, and his first impression is that the suite is deserted. The study is never dark. Azula can be found there at almost all hours of the day and night, curled up in her armchair near the lamp, doing her work. Rao rushes into the room, tail wagging and sniffing around frantically, before curling up in his dog bed near the bookshelf and yawning.  
  
 _Very helpful_ , Chan Li thinks wryly. He moves tentatively toward the bedroom, opening the door and glancing inside. It's empty, just like the study. "Azula?" he calls, not entirely successful at keeping the tremor from his voice.  
  
There is no reply.   
  
The guards would have told him if she was out, wouldn't they? The work day had ended hours ago, so it is too late for Azula to be in the throne room. The bathroom door is ajar, and the expansive room is empty. He peers inside, and to his confusion, there is a dark drape pinned above the large mirror, obscuring it from view. Chan Li touches it briefly, puzzled. The mirror is intact. There's no reason for it to be covered.  
  
His dressing room is empty too, of course, and hers. Chan Li stops in the middle of Azula's dressing room, startled. Her mirror is gone, leaving a huge bare space above her hairstyling and cosmetics table. _What on earth_? He takes a moment to think, wondering if there are any superstitions that link death and mirrors, any old customs that might necessitate the covering of a mirror after a death in the family, but nothing comes to mind - and besides, Azula is the least superstitious person he knows.  
  
Something catches his eye as he searches the room. A brief, bright glint, and Chan Li crosses over to it, lying in the space behind the cosmetics table. He kneels, puts his hand to it, and then draws back immediately. It's a shard of polished glass. Mirrored glass.   
  
He makes his way to the study again, slow and uneasy. For the first time, he notices the wineglass on the table. There are a few drops pooling at the bottom of the glass. A thought strikes him, and Chan Li searches the bookshelf, where he had last left it--  
  
He finds the small bottle of sedative draught that the royal physician had given him. It lies next to some military reports from the Earth Kingdom, empty.   
  
There is only one place left to search. Chan Li pulls the double glass doors open and steps onto the balcony. He almost doesn't see Azula, sitting alone in the dark on the sofa, her back to him. She doesn't move, doesn't turn or acknowledge him in any way. She must have heard him call out to her earlier.  
  
Every fiber of his being is screaming caution, and Chan Li approaches her slowly, as non-threateningly as he can. "Azula," he says.  
  
She turns to him, and now that he can see her, she looks small, smaller than he remembers, and she must have lost weight. It's evident in her face; in the way her red silk robe hangs on her. The Fire Lord just looks at him for a second. "I didn't order you back," she says.  
  
There is no vitriol in the words, or in her eyes. It is a simple statement of fact. Azula never sounds so _flat_ , and it's disconcerting. She has lost weight, and her hair - her bangs are sliced unevenly, haphazardly, across her forehead. It looks like somebody had taken a knife to them. Worse, even in the dimness, he can see that her right hand and wrist are bandaged.   
  
"I know. But I - I thought I should come and see you. What happened to your hand?" Chan Li asks gently, not wanting to scare her, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach. He doesn't know exactly what he's dealing with - he has no experience with women's emotional troubles - but he has to tread carefully. For some reason, he has the brief, irrational urge to cry. Azula is always so particular about her hair. She treats it with more care than she treats the crown jewels. And the mirror, and her hand--   
  
Azula remains silent, and he tries again. "I noticed that the mirror in your dressing room is gone."  
  
"It broke," Azula replies halfheartedly. There are dark circles under her eyes, more pronounced than he's ever seen them before. "It was an accident."  
  
She lapses into silence. At a loss for what to do, Chan Li kneels at her feet, as he had more than half a year ago, at their betrothal ceremony, and takes her reluctant hands. They are hot, overheated even for a firebender, and she doesn't curl her fingers around his as she normally does. _She killed Ozai with these hands,_ he realizes suddenly.   
  
Azula just looks down at him, as if she can read his thoughts. "Why did you come back?" she asks. Her voice is high, and it shakes a little. "I disgust you. Good, moral Chan Li. I see that you can't even look at me. I'm a kinslayer, remember?"  
  
He can't help but flinch. "No," he stammers. "I mean--"  
  
"Did you come back to say you told me so?" Azula stares at him. "You said it would haunt me for the rest of my life. Well, I'm not haunted. I'm _free_. Free of a traitorous father who never loved me."  
  
Spirits, his heart aches. "Azula…"  
  
He reaches out to her on instinct, trying to comfort her, and she pulls back as if his hand were diseased. But her face contorts for a moment, as if she is trying to hold back tears. "It's true," she insists. "He never loved me. Before the Avatar took his bending, he was on his way to crowning himself the Phoenix King. He always promised me that we were going to rule together. I was going to be his right hand, his best advisor. But when the time came, he left me behind. And he wouldn't even look at me when he left."   
  
There is nothing that Chan Li can do but squeeze her hand. "I'm sorry," he says uselessly, and hates himself for it.  
  
"Everybody leaves," Azula says, after a brief pause, looking at some fixed spot over his head. "Him, Zuko, Mai, Ty Lee. My mother. She didn't even say goodbye. That is how loathsome I am, that my own mother wouldn't say goodbye before leaving me, and my father tried to have me killed." She finally looks down at him. "How do you feel about telling any future children we might have that their mother killed their grandfather?"  
  
Chan Li stumbles over the words, over a ridiculous lie that they won't have to know. Everybody in the Fire Nation knows. This will be written in every one of the history books.  
  
"Exactly. If I don't disgust you now, I will. You'll see it soon. Maybe," Azula scoffs, bitter and painful-sounding. "Maybe you'll even run off and join the Avatar, just like the others. I think you're too soft to want to have me killed. Go now, if you want. I won't even try and stop you."  
  
Her voice cracks, a sob tearing from her throat. She buries her head in her hands, shuddering, and the sight and sound of her tears are wrong, somehow. This is Azula, the Fire Lord, the most powerful woman in the world, the conqueror of Ba Sing Se, colder and tougher and more brilliant than any army general or navy admiral he's ever known.   
  
"No," Chan Li manages. "Azula, don't cry. Please don't cry."  
  
She turns away from him hastily, trying to gulp back the tears. It is probably the last thing she wants, but Chan Li rises from the floor, sitting next to her on the sofa, and wraps his arms around her, stroking her hair.  
  
The gesture seems to burst some kind of dam, and Azula begins to sob in earnest, her whole body shaking with the force of her cries. She collapses into herself, and he has never heard pain this deep and raw and helpless before. "I tried to be a good princess, but there's something wrong with me. I ruin everything," she gasps, barely coherent. "I want to go back. I want to go back."  
  
The words make something in his chest twist painfully, and he's sure that he's ineffective and completely out of his depth, but Chan Li hugs her tightly anyway. "It's going to be all right," he says, as firmly as he can, trying to make himself believe it. "Everything is going to be okay."  
  
Azula just cries harder at that, but she curls her hand around his sleeve tightly, and doesn't let go. Chan Li presses his hand over hers, and it makes him wonder whether she's ever cried in front of anybody before; whether anybody has ever been there to console her.   
  
He doesn't let go. He holds her close and murmurs soothing platitudes that Azula would normally call idiotic, until her sobs finally quiet into sniffles. She leans against him, apparently exhausted, closing her swollen eyes. Chan Li kisses the top of her head, and then somewhat awkwardly, he tries to mop at her wet face with his sleeve. "You haven't been sleeping," he says, and it isn't quite a question.  
  
Azula shakes her head. "I sleep a little bit, thanks to that calming draught," she manages. "But I have bad dreams. I've been working as normal and doing what has to be done, but the throne room--" Her voice cracks again, and she buries her face in her palms, overwhelmed. "I've been making the servants burn incense, but there's a _smell_."  
  
Chan Li is glad she can't see his face. He rubs her shoulder, trying to recover his composure. "Come inside," he says. "You need to rest."  
  
He tries to help her up, but Azula stands on her own, a little shakily, and pulls her robe tighter around herself. As soon as they step inside, there's a banging on the study door. "Fire Lord?" one of the guards calls.  
  
Azula wipes at her face one more time. "Yes?"   
  
Three guards carefully open the door, including the captain. "Is everything all right, Fire Lord?" the captain asks, bowing his head respectfully. The other two guards are staring at him in suspicion and obviously searching Azula for any sign of harm, but Chan Li can't even bring himself to be offended. They're worried about her, that much is clearly visible - instead of calling her mad or insane or saying that she's been possessed by evil spirits. At least a few people in the Fire Nation have some compassion.  
  
"Everything is fine," Azula replies, sounding unusually subdued. "Thank you. You may leave us."  
  
The guards retreat, and Rao rises from his dog bed, coming to stand next to Azula. Wordlessly, she presses a hand to his head, stroking the soft fur there, before making her way to the dark bedroom and nearly collapsing on the bed, quite unlike her usual catlike, graceful movements. She hides her face in the pillows, grabbing them and curling her body into them, and Chan Li wonders whether this is what a broken heart looks like.  
  
He joins her tentatively, remembering the acrimonious note on which they had parted. Chan Li places an arm around her, and after a few moments, Azula takes his hand, and holds on tightly.   
  
-  
  
  



	19. Part 19

They set up camp in the caves amongst the highest mountains in the Earth Kingdom. It is bitterly cold, the landscape barren and rocky, and finding food is a constant challenge. But the important thing is that their hiding place is so remote that no Fire Nation soldiers could ever catch a glimpse of them. The mountains are more than three days' travel from the closest Fire Nation base, and airships never venture up here, due to the treacherous winds and notoriously poor visibility.   
  
It isn't easy, but here, they're safe. Here, they can wait, and listen, and plan.  
  
It's after a dinner of thin mushroom soup and wild hare-squirrel, during a brief lull in the conversation, that they hear the hawk's cry. Sokka stands up so quickly that he nearly knocks over Suki's cup of tea, and waves at the sky in excitement. "Hawky!" he yells. "Down here!"  
  
Hawky swoops down and makes an inelegant landing on his shoulder, coupled with a triumphant squawk. Across the campfire, Katara rubs her ear, making a face. "Sokka, your bird is as loud and annoying as you are."  
  
Her brother pulls a face right back at her, as he unties the thick bundle of scrolls from the hawk's leg. "Don't listen to her, Hawky," he croons. "You're a good bird. You're the _best_ bird. Who's a good Hawky?"  
  
"Wow," Aang says, pouring a bowl of water for Hawky to drink from. "That's a lot of messages! No wonder he's been gone for so long."  
  
Sokka sorts through the pile of correspondence. "Hey, here's one from your uncle," he says, handing a scroll to the young man seated on the other side of him.   
  
Zuko takes it, unrolling and beginning to read it at once. In the second after, he breathes a tremendous sigh of relief. "Uncle's fine now. It was just the flu that he had, not pneumonia or anything like that."  
  
Mai pats him on the hand in silent understanding, and the rest of the scrolls are distributed quickly. Aang and Katara read a letter from her father, written from the same secret camp where Iroh and the other adults are gathering and training the rebel army. Ty Lee reads Toph a copy of the Earth Kingdom Times, reporting the latest happenings in Omashu. Suki and Sokka lean over the most important report, the one written in code, from their spy in the Fire Nation capital.  
  
Everything is quiet until Sokka yells out loud and almost drops the paper. Everyone looks at him, startled. "What?" Toph asks, looking around. "What happened?"  
  
"Sokka? Are you okay?"  
  
In response, Sokka yells again - a sound of mingled disgust and confusion - and throws the scroll at Aang, as if it might burn his fingers. Aang just blinks at it, turning it this way and that. "I don't get it. You and Suki are the only ones who can read this code."  
  
Zuko's up and on his feet in a heartbeat. "Is something happening in the capital? Is it my father?"  
  
"Kind of," Suki replies, looking at him tentatively, while Sokka just shudders. "It's - uh - your sister is engaged. Your father arranged the betrothal two weeks ago."  
  
A minor pandemonium breaks out around the campfire, frightening Hawky so badly that he takes flight again. Zuko sits down hard. Mai just blinks at the news. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Ty Lee go very still.  
  
"Wait," Aang says, looking around at them plaintively. "But Azula's only fifteen. She can't get married, right?"  
  
"She's just a year younger than the marriageable age in the Water Tribe," Katara replies stiffly, her arms crossed.   
  
Mai nods. "It's normal for young noblewomen to be betrothed at this age in the Fire Nation, though they usually don't actually marry until seventeen or eighteen. I just…never imagined Azula would be one of them." _For more reasons than one,_ she adds to herself, privately.   
  
"So," Toph begins, skepticism written all over her face. "Who's the unlucky guy?"  
  
Suki nods at the scroll. "It says here that the guy is Admiral Chan's older son, Chan Li, a captain in the Fire Nation Navy."  
  
Zuko rubs his forehead, as if dazed. "Admiral Chan's son?" he mumbles. "As in, Chan from Ember Island? The beach house that we burned down?"  
  
"That's Chan Tsu, the younger one," Mai reminds him. "This is the older brother. Captain, remember?"  
  
"Three Chans in one family. How does anyone tell them apart? So original. Such imaginative naming," Sokka says, under his breath.   
  
"How much older is he?" Ty Lee asks. The only one who seems to notice anything at all that's off in her tone is Toph, who glances at her curiously.   
  
Mai thinks on it for a moment. "He'd be thirty now, I guess."   
  
Zuko fidgets, obviously ill at ease, and surprisingly - or not, now that she thinks about it - the only other one who looks disconcerted is Aang. Sokka still looks like he's stuck at the "ew," stage, and Ty Lee's face is a mask.   
  
"Do you know him?" Suki asks.   
  
Mai inclines her head. "I know the family. The admiral, his wife, and Chan Li dined at our house once. It was couple of years ago, before we moved to Omashu."   
  
Sokka frowns. "What were your impressions? Is there anything we need to be worried about?"  
  
"This guy isn't anywhere near Azula's caliber, if that's what you're asking." Mai glances at Zuko and Ty Lee, sitting on either side of her. "We met his younger brother on Ember Island last year. Chan Tsu is a little bit smarter than your average hog-monkey. Captain Chan Li seemed a step above that." She pauses, and then shrugs. "He was nice, though."  
  
Toph shakes her head at the assessment. "Azula is going to eat him alive," she pronounces. "I kind of feel sorry for him."   
  
Katara leans forward. "I don't get it. What's the endgame of this whole thing?"  
  
"Isn't it obvious? Heirs." Sokka points at Zuko. "As soon as Aang de-bended Ozai and Azula took the throne, she labeled Zuko a traitor. But if anything happens to her - Ozai can't take back the throne, because he's not a firebender anymore--"  
  
"That's what you think," Zuko replies moodily. "Sure, it defies tradition, but I wouldn't put it past him."  
  
"If anything happens to Azula - like, say she dies - who's the only remaining, firebending, heir to the throne? Zuko." Sokka scratches his chin, deep in thought. "Also, if Zuko and Mai have an accident that results in a kid, that kid also has a claim to Azula's throne."   
  
Zuko turns a deep shade of red, and Mai throws her apple core at Sokka's face. "Shut up."  
  
Sokka bats away the apple core, unfazed. "No, but do you see what I mean? Before Mai and Zuko reproduce, if Azula has a child, a legitimate heir - if anything happens to her, _that_ kid will be the heir to the throne, not anybody else. Since it'll be older than Mai and Zuko's kid, _and_ it'll be her direct bloodline. Not her niece or nephew."  
  
"This is the logical choice," Zuko adds quietly. "Now that I think about it, I'm not too surprised. Admiral Chan and my dad have been friends since before I was born. They're one of the wealthiest families in the Fire Nation, and they're all firebenders. So any kid of Azula and Chan Li's will be a firebender as well."  
  
"What a mess," Aang says, with feeling. "And nobody seems to care that he's twice her age."  
  
Suki nods fervently. "Right? I am so glad to be a commoner."  
  
Katara bites her lip. "We don't want that. What you said, Zuko, about heirs. When we depose Azula, we want you to take the throne, unquestioned."  
  
"Okay." Toph cracks her knuckles. "So we crash the wedding? Get rid of the groom? That'll put a delay on Azula's whole 'get non-bastard babies' thing."   
  
"This isn't Azula's thing," Ty Lee says unexpectedly, her voice strained. "This has Ozai written all over it. He's desperate to make sure that Zuko is edged out of the succession as soon as possible. Azula never wanted to get married at all, especially not so young. I don't think she would have agreed to this."  
  
"Wow, I feel so sorry for her," Katara replies sardonically. Ty Lee narrows her eyes, but she doesn't say a word, instead curling her knees closer to her chest and hugging them tight.  
  
"I don't think we have enough time to act now, or prevent the wedding from taking place," Zuko says, after a few tense moments. "Not unless we all want to die. You guys don't know how big a deal royal weddings are. The capital is going to be locked down, and security isn't ever going to be tighter than it is in the weeks leading up to the wedding."   
  
"We don't have the money to get someone to off the guy before then, either," Toph muses.  
  
Aang looks horrified. "Of course not! Even if we did, we can't kill some random guy just because his parents want him to marry Azula."   
  
"He'd probably thank us," Sokka mutters. "For saving him from a fate worse than death."   
  
-  
  
Long after the rest of their camp is asleep, Mai untangles herself from her blankets and rises. She glances around the camp, noting with sharp eyes that everything and everybody is where they are supposed to be. Except for one, but she had expected that.  
  
She slips away, into the forest bordering the edge of the campsite. She steps deftly around the twigs and dried leaves beneath her feet, moving silently as a wraith, and Mai smiles to herself at that. She has come so far since she first began stealth training six years ago.   
  
It doesn't take long for her to find Ty Lee, who sticks out like a sore thumb in her pink clothing. Her old friend is sitting by the banks of the river, her back to her, in a meditation pose. Deliberately, Mai steps on a twig, the sound echoing in the still night, and Ty Lee spins around, startled. The look on her face softens when she sees who it is, though, and now Mai can see the silvery tear tracks running down her face.  
  
"Hey," she says, stepping forward and kneeling beside her friend. It's a stupid question, and she would have mocked anyone else for asking it, but the words come out of her before she can check them. "How are you?"  
  
Even now, Ty Lee manages a shaky smile. "Not too great," she admits.   
  
"Yeah. I could feel how gray your aura was getting."  
  
Ty Lee makes a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. She takes Mai's arm, leaning against it, and after a moment of hesitation, Mai reaches out and places an awkwardly comforting hand on Ty Lee's head, stroking her friend's silken hair. She has no idea what to say, and she hates it. Finishing school and countless etiquette tutors had never prepared her for this. She's never been one for meaningless platitudes, anyway, and she can't lie to Ty Lee and tell her that everything is going to be all right.  
  
"What if he's mean to her?" Ty Lee finally whispers. "What if he's awful?"  
  
Mai glances skyward, entreating her ancestors to give her patience. _Only_ Ty Lee, even after Azula had snapped and looked as if she was a hairsbreadth away from killing them both--  
  
"Listen to me," she says firmly, making her friend look her in the eye. "Ty Lee. Think about what you just said. This is Azula we are talking about. Remember that. You are worrying about somebody being mean to _Azula_."  
  
Ty Lee's lower lip actually quivers. "Yes, but…"  
  
Mai sighs. "I know. I know. But think about it," she says bracingly, taking Ty Lee's hand. "She's the Fire Lord. Everything that you're worried about - if he ever lifts a hand to her, that's treason and imprisonment at best, and a death sentence at worst. A consort committing infidelity is treason as well, carrying the same punishment." She pauses, thinking about it. "And after half an hour spent in her company, I'm sure this Chan Li will realize that being unkind to her in any other way would be madness."   
  
Ty Lee closes her eyes tightly and nods, as if willing herself to believe it. "She won't be happy, though," she croaks, at last. Mai has never heard her sound this miserable before. "Not truly. Not with…"  
  
She trails off, and there is nothing Mai can say to that. It is the price of being a noblewoman - or a nobleman - in the Fire Nation. Ty Lee looks as though she's trying to hold back tears, and suddenly, Mai understands what she hasn't said. The realization curls cold fingers around her heart, squeezing it tight.   
  
The thing about marriage, at least in the Fire Nation, is that it's permanent. Aside from the bond between parent and child, it is the deepest and most sacred bond there is. Ty Lee has never said it to her, not in so many words, but it's obvious that she hadn't given up hope for some kind of reconciliation with Azula, after everything was over. Now, though--  
  
Wordlessly, Mai reaches out and wraps her arms around her friend in a rare embrace, holding her close. Ty Lee hugs her back tightly, muffling her sobs in her thick black robes.  
  
-  
  
  
  



	20. Part 20

They are in another camp, the next time they receive news from the palace spy. This camp is located in a remote Earth Kingdom swamp almost a full week of travel away from the closest Fire Nation base, and the canopy of trees above them is so thick and dark that no Fire Nation airship could ever spot the campsite.   
  
Hawky arrives at night, with the missives from their spies, and allies and family members hidden in other parts of the Earth Kingdom, gathering and training the rebel army. The rebel army has made gains, succeeding in liberating five Fire Nation-controlled cities just in the past month. The letters keep coming to the Avatar and his friends, saying that the rebel army is staying vigilant, but there has been no sign of retaliation from the Fire Nation.  
  
And over the past month, Zuko has taken to staring at the sky when he's not busy training Aang and writing letters to the rebel forces, giving them inside information about the Fire Nation bases. "There's something wrong," he mutters, whenever someone asks him what he's doing. "The fact that Azula has just let the cities go. Or does she just want us to think that she's let the cities go? There's definitely something wrong."   
  
So when Sokka gets the report from the palace spy, Zuko leans over his shoulder as he reads. He's been trying to learn the code, but it's complicated, and only a few words jump out at him. He recognizes Azula's name, but that doesn't mean anything. "Well?" Zuko demands, noticing that Sokka's face grows pale as he reads down until the end of the scroll, his jaw set. "What is it? Is she planning something?"  
  
"No," Sokka says shortly, setting the scroll aside. Everyone is looking at him now, and he flounders for a second, unsure of whether he has to break the news gently or not. "Someone tried to assassinate her."  
  
Shock and disbelief registers on everyone's faces, but Zuko and Ty Lee look like they have been slapped. Maybe Mai does too; she doesn't know. "…Tried?" she asks, finally breaking the silence. Thankfully, her voice doesn't waver.  
  
Sokka snorts humorlessly, waving the scroll in the air. "Apparently Azula took out the assassin. Why am I not surprised?"  
  
"Was she hurt?" Aang asks tentatively. "Is she okay?"  
  
"It says here that she had no serious injuries." Sokka frowns. "She just banged her head a bit, I guess."   
  
"Pity," Katara murmurs under her breath, glancing at Suki, sitting beside her. She doesn't notice the look Ty Lee gives her, and Mai thinks that it is probably only Ty Lee's regard for Suki that has saved Katara from ending up in a chi-blocked heap on the floor.  
  
Sokka clears his throat awkwardly, and Toph shakes her head, puzzled. "Who did it? Or, well, paid the person to do it?"  
  
"Yeah," Suki agrees. "After what Azula did to the last guy who tried to rebel against her, I didn't think anyone in the Fire Nation would try to cross her again."   
  
"There hasn't been a back-to-back assassination attempt on the Fire Lord and their consort in decades," Zuko says. His hands are clenched into white-knuckled fists. "Someone tried to kill Azula's husband too, remember?"  
  
"It doesn't say anything about that here." Sokka consults the scroll again. "I mean, apparently Azula's guards searched the guy, and they didn't find anything on him to hint who had paid him. The assassin committed suicide to avoid interrogation, just like what happened with Chan Li."   
  
A heavy silence falls over the group. Mai places a discreet hand on Zuko's back, and wishes she could do the same for Ty Lee, sitting still and wooden beside her.  
  
"So things…aren't going so well in the palace," Sokka finishes weakly. "They don't know whether it's some kind of conspiracy to off the whole royal family. First Chan Li, now Azula. They increased Ozai's guard, just in case he's next."  
  
"Somehow, I doubt that," Zuko says darkly.   
  
Aang looks startled. "What are you saying?"  
  
"Nothing." The look on Zuko's face is torn; tormented, and he seems as if he might be ill. "I…it was nothing. I don't know why I even said it. Good night."  
  
With that, he gets up and storms off, retreating to the cypress tree that he and Mai sleep under. Without another word, Ty Lee rises and slips away as well, disappearing into the darkness, in the opposite direction. Mai is conscious of their - Aang's original group - eyes on her, and she examines her own fingernails impassively. "Don't worry," she says. "I'm not planning on making any dramatic exits. Not even a mundane one, at least until we're done with dessert."  
  
Sokka sighs. "Well," he whispers, keeping his voice low. "We should write to Dad and tell him that the army can step up their strikes. We should do as much as we can while Azula is…distracted."  
  
Katara casts a look at the scroll. "Send Hawky back to the Fire Nation when he's rested," she whispers. "We need to stay on top of what's happening there." She hesitates, the firelight casting shadows over her face. "Who knows? It could be that the whole situation in the Fire Nation, with Azula and Ozai, will resolve itself."  
  
Nobody asks her to clarify what she means by that.   
  
-  
  
Mai tries to avoid late nights when she can. She's prone to dark circles under her eyes when she misses out on even a couple of hours of rest, and last time she had sent Hawky to steal some face cream and powder from the nearest market, Katara had nagged and lectured her about it for a quarter of an hour straight. She doesn't really want to go through that again.   
  
Tonight, though, it is unavoidable. When she finally joins Zuko under the cypress tree, he is awake, tossing and turning. He settles down with his head in her lap, and Mai combs her fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asks, her voice barely audible over the hum of the crickets and cicadas.  
  
Zuko just shakes his head, but he holds her hand until he finally falls into a fitful sleep.  
  
When he does, Mai carefully dislodges him and stands, looking down at him. Even in sleep, he frowns. Typical Zuko. And then, she sets off into the swamp, in search of Ty Lee. Zuko and Ty Lee, possibly the only people in this world she would ever inconvenience herself, ever sacrifice sleep, for.  
  
Ty Lee is nowhere to be found at her usual haunts - the cluster of boulders where she does yoga, or the fallen tree trunk that she uses as a balance beam. Mai presses her fingertips to her temples in frustration, fighting the urge to go find and destroy as many of the irritating cicadas and crickets she can, just so they'll shut up and let her listen.  
  
She hears the muted snuffling noise just then. It's a familiar noise, and Mai follows it at once, deeper into the swamp. The noise gets louder as she goes, confirming her suspicion of what it was, and when she slices her way through a massive tangle of vines, she sees it. The Avatar's flying sky-bison in the middle of having a late-night snack on some swamp apples, totally unruffled, as Ty Lee attempts to pull on his leg and plead with him to come with her, _please_.   
  
Mai just stands and stares. "Are you really attempting to steal this thing?"  
  
The thing looks at her and snorts, and Mai rolls her eyes. "Fine. _Appa_."  
  
Ty Lee turns, looking pale and determined. "Help me, Mai. I know he likes you."  
  
Mai doesn't move. "He isn't going anywhere," she explains, trying to be as gentle as she can. Which isn't saying much, really, but Ty Lee will notice the difference. "He wouldn't leave Aang if his life depended on it."  
  
Ty Lee exhales hard, blowing a lock of stray hair away from her sweaty forehead. She re-shoulders her travel bag, and steps away, giving Appa a gentle pat on the leg first. "That's okay, then. I'll just have to walk."  
  
Mai lifts her robes up and braves the mud in order to cross over to her friend. She situates herself right in front of Ty Lee and looks her squarely in the eyes. "You are not _walking_ back to the Fire Nation. It's an island, or don't you remember?"  
  
"Of course I'm not walking!" Ty Lee protests indignantly. "I'm going to walk to the nearest Fire Nation base, say that I'm lost, and ask that they give me a ride on one of their airships. I'll say it's urgent."   
  
Mai closes her eyes against the headache she feels coming on. "And what do you think is going to happen when you get there?" she snaps. "Do you think Azula will roll out the red carpet for you? She's more likely to assume that you were the one who sent the assassin after her, and now you've come to finish the job. You'll be vaporized on sight."  
  
She regrets the sharp words an instant later, when Ty Lee wilts and looks away, her already-reddened eyes filling with tears. "How can you be so heartless, Mai?" she asks, her voice cracking. "Don't you feel bad _at all_? This wouldn't have happened if we were there to protect her - if I was there to protect her."  
  
Mai blinks. If it were anyone else, she would say, _of course I'm heartless, don't you even know me_? But this is Ty Lee, who has been like a sister to her for the past more than ten years, and she deserves more than that. "I do," Mai admits quietly, in a rare moment of unguarded honesty, and she grimaces a little at the hastily-concealed expression of surprise on Ty Lee's face. "What did you think?"  
  
"It's hard to tell sometimes, with you," Ty Lee replies guiltily.   
  
"Yes, well." Mai looks away, unable to help the discomfort that prickles through her now, as it does every time she has to have a remotely personal conversation. "…I  can't help but wonder how Azula is taking it. Probably not well."  
  
Ty Lee shakes her head, her braids flying. "She's always been so paranoid," she whispers, looking pained. "The only ones she ever really trusted were--"  
  
 _Us._  
  
The words hang between them, leaden and awkward. Mai looks down at the mud beneath her feet, unable to meet Ty Lee's gaze. "I don't regret what I did," she confesses. "But I do wish things had turned out differently."  
  
Ty Lee just nods, her expression unreadable, for once. Mai glances up at her, finally finding the courage to say what has been on her mind for the past months. "Do you? Regret it, I mean?"  
  
Ty Lee stares at her. "Do I--" Her jaw drops, when she realizes. "Of course I don't," she says flatly, for once, completely serious, so far away from her usual bubbly demeanor. "It all happened so fast, but I - no matter what - I couldn't have lived with myself if I stood by and let her hurt you."   
  
Mai is tongue-tied for a second, and then, to her intense shame, her throat closes over, the backs of her eyes pricking with hot tears. Somewhat awkwardly, she rests a hand on Ty Lee's shoulder. "I don't think anyone gives you enough credit," she says.   
  
Because Ty Lee has never had any reservations whatsoever about physical contact, she hugs Mai tightly, and Mai rests her head against her friend's shoulder. "I know everyone around that campfire tonight wished that the assassin had done what he came to the palace to do," Ty Lee whispers. "I could feel it in their auras. Everyone except you and Zuko. Aang wanted it too, but he felt so guilty about wanting it."   
  
Mai keeps her mouth shut, not trusting herself to speak. She wishes that she shared Ty Lee's certainty. It's true that she doesn't _want_ Azula dead, but life without her would definitely be much easier. It would make Zuko's path, and Aang's and all the rest, much clearer.   
  
When she and Ty Lee pull apart, Ty Lee's eyes are so sad that Appa finishes munching on his apples and nuzzles against her side, in an attempt to cheer her up. "I hope that she'll be all right," Ty Lee says, lifting her chin, and patting the soft fur on top of the sky bison's head. "I don't care what anyone else thinks. I hope that nothing happens to her."   
  
"I hope so, too," Mai says, after a moment. She's surprised to realize that she means it, now. If not entirely for Azula's sake, then for Ty Lee's. If anything serious happened to Azula, she doesn't think Ty Lee could bear the guilt and sorrow.   
  
She takes Ty Lee's arm, and they walk back to camp together, in silence.  
  
-  
  
Two weeks later, Mai and Zuko are resting under their cypress tree after a long training session with Aang, when they hear rustling on the outside of the thick curtain of hanging vines that give them some privacy.   
  
"What," Mai calls flatly, as Zuko groans and throws an arm over his forehead, obviously wanting to get back to his nap.  
  
"Uh, it's me, Sokka. Can I come in?"  
  
In reflection, that should have been the first sign that something was wrong. Sokka never _asks_ before coming in. He usually just throws his boomerang, cackling like a maniac.   
  
Zuko straightens and rubs his eyes. "Yeah, sure."  
  
Mai notices that there's something amiss the second Sokka struggles through the vines. He's pale and looking unusually sober, and one hand is clenched into a white-knuckled fist around a scroll - a scroll with a broken scarlet wax seal on it.  
  
It's instinct, more than anything else. Mai knows, and her heart plummets into her stomach. "Oh, no," she whispers, the words clawing free of her throat without her consent. Her knees almost buckle, and she has to reach out to one of the vines for support, to keep standing.   
  
Zuko looks between her and Sokka and the scroll, his eyes narrowed. "What's going on?"  
  
"I--" Sokka starts, and then he swallows hard and looks away, looking more profoundly uncomfortable than Mai has ever seen him.  
  
"Spit it out!" Zuko yells, leaping to his feet. She can't tell whether it's anger, fear, apprehension, or hope on his face, or all of the above. "What happened?"  
  
Sokka swallows over his dry throat again, visibly steeling himself to deliver the news. "Ozai is dead," he says stiffly. "Azula executed him two days ago, for treason. It - it says here," - he holds out the scroll - "that her husband, Chan Li, found out that Ozai was the one responsible for sending that assassin after Azula. When Azula found out, she, uh…"  
  
Zuko's lips move, but no sound comes out. Numb as she is with shock and disbelief, Mai moves toward him quickly, placing a steadying hand on his back, in case he collapses. He leans against her heavily, as if he doesn't have the strength to stand.  
  
"I'm sorry," Sokka says quietly, reaching out and patting Zuko on the shoulder. "I don't know if you want to hear it, but…"  
  
" _Why_?" Mai asks, although she is sure she already knows the answer. "Why did he - how could he--"  
  
Sokka's eyes glitter with anger. "Because he's a power-hungry monster. Not like we didn't know that already--" after a quick look at Zuko's scar. "But it says here that…apparently Ozai was planning to remarry, some noblewoman who was of childbearing age. And with - with Zuko in exile, and Azula dead, the throne would _have_ to revert to him, even though he's not a firebender anymore. This is the only way he would get it back."   
  
"He wanted to start over." Zuko speaks for the first time, his voice much too calm. "I'm in exile, and out of the way. And Azula…she probably wasn't as malleable as he wanted her to be. She would never be a puppet Fire Lord."   
  
They stay quiet for a while, all three of them lost in their own terrible thoughts. Mai's stomach hurts. She tries to think only of Zuko, of the effect that this must have on him, because she _can't_ think of Azula in the Fire Nation, discovering that her own father had been the one who wanted her dead, she can't--  
  
"She killed him?" Zuko asks hoarsely, at last. "Not Chan Li? Not the executioner? Azula?"  
  
Sokka nods. "Yeah. In front of the whole court. With, um…" He hesitates, fidgets, apparently unsure of how much detail to provide. "With her lightning."   
  
Zuko closes his eyes for a second, looking positively ill. When he opens them, they're a little unfocused, and he stares at a fixed spot to the right of Sokka's boots. "Thank you for coming here and telling me," he says. "I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier."  
  
Sokka nods again, somewhat tremulously. "No problem. Seriously. I… Again, I'm sorry, man. I really am."  
  
He looks at Mai, and she inclines her head in silent gratitude. Sokka flees, and the second he does, leaving them alone again, Zuko sinks to his knees, burying his head in his hands. He's making a strange gasping sound, and it takes Mai a second to realize that he's weeping.  
  
She keels beside him and hugs him tight, as hard as she can. "This can't be happening," Zuko sobs. "This is some kind of sick dream." He's crying so hard that she can't even make out the rest of the words he's saying; only little bits, like _Azula_ and _always_ and _favorite_.   
  
Mai kisses him on the top of her head, trying to be comforting, and blinking her own tears away. "I know. I know."  
  
-  
  
It takes close to an hour for Zuko to regain his composure; for the tears to dry on his face and for him to be able to sit up straight again. A little after he does, Ty Lee makes her way to the cypress tree, white-faced and silent. Mai takes one look at her and knows she heard the news. The three of them hug tightly, in a miserable little huddle in the dirt.  
  
Ty Lee had brought a bowl of berries with her. "From Suki," she reports. "And Katara." They share the snack quietly, the sweet berries staining their fingers dark purple.   
  
"Growing up, I always thought he loved her, and not me," Zuko says at last, when the bowl is half finished. Most of the raw pain seems to have passed, and his voice is flat and numb. "Now I realize that he never… He only saw both of us as tools. That's it."  
  
"Does that make it easier?" Mai asks softly.   
  
Zuko shakes his head. "It doesn't."  
  
Ty Lee looks at both of them. She takes Mai's hand in hers, squeezing it gently, and rests her other hand on Zuko's shoulder, as if she knows that both of them hurt more deeply than they are willing or able to let on. "What are we going to do now?" she asks.   
  
Mai glances at Zuko, and he shakes his head, staring blankly at the blackened pile of twigs that had been last night's fire. "I don't know."  
  
-  
  



	21. Part 21

Azula sleeps for twelve hours straight, the night of Chan Li's return from exile. It's a sleep so deep that she doesn't even move; doesn't let go of her grip on his hand until he gently disentangles himself from her in the early hours of the morning. Azula doesn't stir, and Chan Li stands by the side of the bed and looks down at her, rubbing the back of his aching neck, struggling to breathe around the weight that seems to press down on his chest.   
  
He is tired, and worried and afraid for her - and for himself, a little - and there is nobody he can go to about this, nobody whose advice he can seek. He's felt overwhelmed and horribly out of his depth a million times since marrying Azula and moving into the royal palace, he's no stranger to the emotion, but this… This is much more serious than that. His wife's health and well-being is at stake here, the Fire Lord's health is at stake, and as much as he wracks his mind over the issue, Chan Li doesn't know what to do about it. If he says a word about this to the royal physician, it would undoubtedly trigger Azula's ire, and he's just gotten back in her good graces again. Or at least, he thinks he has.  
  
The Fire Lord wakes suddenly, quietly, her eyes drifting open and staying open. She looks at him for a moment, uncomprehendingly, before her memories of the last evening seem to return. They shutter her face, draw a frown on her brow already, and Chan Li sits beside her, touching her cheek with a tentative hand. "How are you?"  
  
To his surprise, Azula leans her head into the touch for just a second. "Fine," she responds automatically, though she looks anything but. Without another word, she rises, pushes the covers back, and makes her way to the bathroom, disappearing inside.  
  
She stays there for so long that Chan Li starts to get worried, pacing ineffectively outside, and once resting his palm on the closed door. He thinks about mirror shards, the bandage on her wrist, and the fact that Azula, that the most closed-off person he has ever met, is radiating pain so tangible that just being near her makes him ache. He's just about to panic and call out to her when the door opens, releasing a barrage of steam from within. Azula emerges from the cloud, dressed in her Fire Lord robes, her hair damp around her shoulders. Her expression is set in the cold, calm composure he knows so well, but it looks more fragile, somehow.   
  
"I have to get back to work at once," she says, answering his question before it even leaves his lips. "I've lost valuable hours sleeping. There's something I need to address first, though."  
  
At Azula's request, Chan Li stands guard over her meeting with the head of the kitchen servants in charge of preparing and delivering both of their meals. The man kneels on the priceless rug in the center of their sitting room, and Azula stands with her back to him, facing out of the window. "No more of that poison," she instructs. "Not with dinner, not on special occasions, not _ever_. Not even a single small glass, even if I demand it. And not for my consort, either," Azula adds, glancing at him over her shoulder, and Chan Li nods back in silent understanding. "I would rather not look at it at all. I also wish for you to remove any bottles currently in my suite before you leave. Do you understand me?"  
  
The man bows his head. "Yes, Fire Lord."  
  
He departs hastily, and only then does Azula close her eyes, her shoulders slumping. Chan Li crosses over to her, risking a gentle pat on her shoulder. "Was it that bad?" he asks. He had found one empty bottle of wine last night, but…   
  
Azula glances away. "You don't want to know." Involuntarily, she thinks about it - about filling the glasses to the brim, until the dark red liquid slopped down over her hands, and then discarding the glasses entirely, in favor of drinking straight out of the bottle like some kind of drunkard peasant filth. Just the memories make her shudder, make her nauseous. She hadn't been exaggerating when she had told the servant that she didn't want to even _look_ at alcohol. The thought, the sight, the smell, all of it reminds her of the taste, and that reminds her of sitting on the sofa and sobbing about her father, about her mother, and Ty Lee and Mai and even _Zuko_ and--  
  
Azula clears her throat, forcing the thoughts away. Vaguely, she realizes that Chan Li is looking at her with pity, and she's torn between wanting to snap at him for it and wanting to take the comfort that he would offer her; that he's always offered her. "Well," she says, in a decent semblance of her usual brusque tone. It's the last thing she wants to do, but she has to project the image of normalcy and efficiency. "I have business to attend to."   
  
She stalks out of the room before he can see through her.   
  
-  
  
When Azula reads all the reports from the Earth Kingdom, it takes her two read-throughs to let all the information sink in, possibly the first time that's ever happened since childhood. She rises from her desk, walks over to her map, and pulls too many red pins off the map, one by one. Each pin indicates a Fire Nation military installment in an Earth Kingdom town - an installment that Zuko, his rebel army, and the Avatar have recently overthrown.   
  
She looks down at the pins in her hand. All of them must be placed back on the map. It is crucial to--  
  
Azula finds that she no longer cares to remember what exactly it is crucial to. Whenever she thinks back to it, she hears her father's voice telling her about the rest of the world and Fire Nation's glorious purpose and how he will fulfill it and how she must help him do so, and she shuts it down, she shuts it up at once until all that's in her head is blissful silence.  
  
Azula looks down at the pins again, and then back at the slightly emptier map of the Earth Kingdom. She should be enraged about this, she knows she should, but she can't bring herself to care much at all.  
  
-  
  
Day after day, the rest of her working hours remain equally torturous. Azula continues to preside over her war council, her economic council, her department of the interior, as she must, but she can't quite hear people speak when they do so. Or maybe she can hear them, but what they're saying doesn't register fully in her mind. Several times a day, she battles the wild impulse to get up and just _leave_ \- leave the throne room, her study, the palace, the capital city entirely. She isn't sure where she would even go. She doesn't care, as long as it is far away from everything.   
  
She doesn't move, though. Azula sits still as stone through every single meeting and every one of her royal duties, her expression impassive. She takes everything in and though she's expected to put it out again, to contribute and take action and _rule_ , she can't do it. As hard as she tries, she just can't.  
  
It's disgusting and frustrating, and in the moments that Azula actually cares, she feels as though she should seek help. She dismisses the thoughts in the next second, though. She can't imagine herself confiding in the royal physician or seeking spiritual counseling from the Fire Sages. In the privacy of her own rooms, she avoids Chan Li's worried gaze whenever she can, and is grateful that he isn't brave enough to confront her.   
  
-  
  
What it is is feeling uneasy all the time. Aside from the pain in her chest that won't go away, Azula is struck with bone-weary fatigue, and senselessly, simultaneously restless and agitated. Worst of all, she's always yearning, wanting, impossible things. The desires crowd into her head and her very being, so powerful that they make it impossible for her to focus on anything.   
  
It is wild, uncharacteristic yearning, too. She had once dreamed of ultimate power, of being addressed as the Fire Lord and having every single man, woman, and child in the whole nation, the whole _world_ , bow to her. She had spent countless hours just dreaming of sitting on the throne, untouchable and all-powerful, behind a wall of blue flame.  
  
Now the visions that Azula has no power to stop are of other things entirely. Laughter, companionship, touching, hugs, Ty Lee, Mai, Zuko, her father, her mother, alternate realities where everything had been normal and happy and all right. She falls asleep and dreams about stealing a yacht with Zuko and taking it on a joyride down the coast, like Chan Li had done with his younger brother. She has intrusive, irrational thoughts, dreams, fantasies, of her sixteenth birthday and her parents, both of them, throwing an enormous party for her. Hugging her tight and kissing her on the forehead as they give her the knife to cut her cake with.  
  
Azula comes to the quiet, private conclusion that these visions are trying to kill her. Her father is dead, after all, at her own hand, and her mother may very well be, for all she knows. Are their restless, vengeful spirits trying to lure her to them?  
  
She distracts herself from these troubling thoughts as much as she can, by watching Chan Li paint. It's soothing to see his landscapes come to life. They've gotten more fantastical of late; they are nothing she can recognize from any geography books.  
  
Once, whenever they sat together, they had maintained a respectful distance, at opposite ends of the sofa from one another. Now, Azula sits so close beside him that their legs touch from hip to knee. Chan Li looks at her, paintbrush in hand, startled out of his contemplation of the river he's working on. "Go on," she orders.  
  
He does so, after a moment of hesitation. She isn't sure how much time passes with them sitting like that, the only sounds in the study Chan Li's paintbrush against the paper, and his dog's soft, deep breathing. Finally, he finishes the river, setting the brush down. In an automatic gesture, he heaves a sigh of relief and puts an arm around her, hugging her close to him.   
  
He releases her almost immediately afterward, though, and Azula can feel him blush. "Sorry," he mumbles. Chan Li is much more naturally affectionate than she is, but he has always been sensitive to her restraint and lack of demonstrativeness. Outside of a pat on the hand or shoulder and brief kisses to the cheek and forehead, they reserve their physical contact to the bedroom.  
  
Azula isn't sure what drives her to do it - the yearning, maybe, the want from earlier, the uncharacteristic need to feel loved - but she leans against him, resting her head on his shoulder. Chan Li tenses, obviously surprised, but he recovers quickly. Slowly, tentatively, he wraps an arm around her, stroking her hair gently, rubbing her back, and the tenderness in the gesture almost makes her cry.  
  
-  
  
Life with Azula has never been normal, but over time, to Chan Li's relief, it became predictable. Over the past several months, he learned that the Fire Lord was very attached to her routines, even during her time not spent in the throne room, and preferred not to deviate from them in any way.   
  
It's different now. Unmoored, in a sense. Chan Li doesn't dare to comment on it, but he notices. Instead of spending almost all of her so-called evening and night leisure time on official governing business, strategizing and planning better than any official on her council, Azula seems unfocused. She sits in her armchair in contemplative silence, or sits close beside him and watches him paint, taking in the landscapes unfolding before her and looking strangely far away. Most unusually - even more so than the fact that Azula has been seeking him out, leaning against him in a way that indicates she wants to be hugged or held, or silently offering him her pearl-handled comb and allowing him to comb her hair at night  - she spends time with Rao, petting his sleek gray fur for long stretches of time. Rao, too, seems to show more of an affinity toward Azula than he ever has before, rarely leaving her side.  
  
"He likes you," Chan Li says one night, as Azula strokes the soft fur on the dog's head. A stack of conspicuously unread military reports from the Earth Kingdom sits beside her, on the armrest of the sofa.  
  
"He's unwise, then." Azula's hand falters on Rao's head. "Just like his master."  
  
Chan Li sets his own intelligence reports down. Despite her threats about "dealing with him" right before she had thrown him into exile, Azula hadn't stripped him of his position, only ordering him to report to her in excruciating detail once a day, instead of once a week. He holds a hand out to Rao, and the dog moves to him at once, pressing his cold nose into his hand and licking his palm. "Did you know," he says, without looking up. "Rao hated Ozai. He was terrified of him - wouldn't go near him at all."  
  
Azula looks at him out of the corner of her eye. "Really?"   
  
Chan Li nods. "Maybe it was some kind of instinct. A smell, even. He's always been a good judge of character."   
  
He lets her mull that over.  
  
-  
  
Normally, he leaves endurance training to Azula. Unlike him, she relishes hours spent in the practice yard, running through rigorous firebending and weapons exercises, and pushing his body to the limit.  
  
Today, though, Chan Li trains for two hours, with his friend Renshu at his side and Rao watching from the sidelines. It's only when Renshu lets his sword fall from his gloved hand, and then collapses on the ground with a groan of agony, that Chan Li follows. They lie side-by-side, wearily staring at the sky, each nursing their bruises.  
  
"I definitely pulled something in my calf," Renshu complains. "And my left arm, too."  
  
Chan Li inclines his head, but he doesn't join in, which is unusual. Any of their friends, anyone who had known Chan Li since their days at the naval academy and grown up with him, would know that there was never a bigger complainer in the aftermath of a spar. Admiral Chan's oldest son was meant for sitting in an art studio and wielding paintbrushes, not swords.   
  
So Renshu turns his sore neck toward his friend. "You okay?" he asks softly, no longer referring to their sparring sessions.  
  
Chan Li closes his eyes. He looks so weary. "It hurts," he says. "To see her hurt. I mean…I feel it. I look at her and I feel her pain as much as I've ever felt my own. More, maybe. It's like…"  
  
He trails off, but he doesn't need to continue. He knows that Renshu knows. It's as sharp and unrelentingly painful as knives.   
  
Renshu pats him on the shoulder, once. "It's the worst thing," he says. "To watch someone you love suffer."  
  
The breath catches in Chan Li's throat. "I don't love her," he replies automatically. "Not…not in the same way you love Xue, at least."  
  
Renshu gives him a cryptic look. "Really?"  
  
-  
  
The next morning, Chan Li is awakened violently. There's something shaking him, crying out his name, ordering him to wake up. He startles awake to see Azula looming above him, looking pale and absolutely beside herself. Instinctively, he moves his arms in front of his face to protect himself, remembering yelling and thrown wineglasses and vases and shards of glass shattering inches from his face.  
  
She steps back as if he had hit her. Chan Li's stomach plummets, and he tries not to see the hurt that had flickered across her face for just a second. "What's wrong?" he asks, struggling out of bed. Despite the early hour, Azula is fully dressed already. She tries to hold herself straight and tall, as always, but she's trembling a little, visibly shaken.  
  
"I went out for a training session," she explains, starting to pace in tight circles. "And I - I--"  
  
Azula shudders, and Chan Li remembers what he had been taught about how bending lightning requires a massive, almost inhuman, amount of control. Control and _inner peace_ , and with a sense of dawning horror, he realizes that there's nobody in the Fire Nation more plagued with inner conflict than Azula. He takes her by the shoulders, looking over her anxiously. "What happened? Did you hurt yourself?"  
  
Azula's eyes glitter. "I wish I had!" she snaps, before directing a frightened look at the door, and gripping her hair in anguish. "I couldn't bend at all," she whispers. "Not lightning, not fire, not even _orange_ fire, nothing! Just these little - these little wisps of flame that a toddler would make!"  
  
Chan Li's jaw drops, and it takes an effort to school his expression back to something resembling composure. Azula is already panicking, and he won't help her by joining in. "You've been…distressed, of late," he says. "That must have something to do with it."  
  
Azula puts her head into her hands. "I don't care what's causing it," she replies, through gritted teeth. "I have to _fix_ it. If this gets out--" Her voice cracks. "A Fire Lord who can't bend? It'll be the final straw. The people already hate me and everyone is saying that there's something wrong with me. If they find out, they'll say that Agni has removed me from his favor, and they'll storm the palace and throw me into some kind of asylum and they'll call Zuko back to serve them instead--"  
  
"No, no," Chan Li says at once, trying to make reassuring movements with his hands, trying to hide the fact that he's just as frightened as she is. He's been the one reading the endless reports of unrest and unfavorable sentiment toward the Fire Lord all across the country, after all. There's no telling what kind of impact this news will have if it gets out. "You're not going to an asylum. I promise. Nobody is going to take you anywhere you don't want to go."  
  
Azula looks up at him with reddened eyes, and not for the first time, Chan Li is struck by the impact that this terrible strain has had on her. "Did any of the guards see?" he asks gently, not wanting to humiliate her further. It must have been impossibly difficult for her to admit this to him, and yet, she had.   
  
Azula shakes her head. "I don't think so. They were on opposite sides of the training grounds, facing the outside perimeter, not me." A thought strikes her, and she flinches a little. "The flames around my throne - if I can't make them light--"  
  
"I could go to the throne room early in the mornings and light them for you," Chan Li offers, a little desperately. "The flames won't be blue, but it's better than nothing."  
  
"How long can we keep that up?" Azula massages her forehead. "And if someone sees? They'll start asking questions, and you know how gossip spreads here."  
  
"The Emerald Isle," he blurts.  
  
Azula blinks at the apparent non sequitur. "What?"  
  
Chan Li gestures, excited by the breakthrough. "Spend a week or two at the Emerald Isle. Being away from all this, and the palace, may help with the - the emotional healing process, from everything that you've been through lately," he stammers, not quite able to look her in the eye. "That could help you regain your firebending."  
  
Azula eyes him warily, and to his surprise, she doesn't dismiss the idea at once. She takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly. "…That theory may have some merit," she allows. "But I can't just run off to the Emerald Isle like that. You know what's been happening in the Earth Kingdom, with Zuko and the Avatar's rebel army. My image has suffered enough over the past several weeks, both within the royal court and outside it. I cannot be seen as running away from my problems - the Fire Nation's problems."  
  
"But you won't be running away from them. You'll be…" he frowns. "Taking time away from the distractions of court to deliberate on the appropriate course of action."  
  
Azula's own frown deepens. "That is a paper-thin excuse." She sighs, again. "But I don't have an alternative. Make the necessary arrangements."  
  
Chan Li bows to her, before starting for the door. "Yes, Fire Lord."  
  
Her voice stops him. "Oh, and Chan Li?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You're coming with me. The dog, too."  
  
-  
  



	22. Part 22

They land at the Emerald Isle two days later.   
  
Rao bounds off the ship in a state of high excitement, before immediately beginning to eat sand and dig in search of mouse-crabs. Chan Li smiles at the sight. To his surprise, when he glances at Azula, he sees the faintest of smiles on her lips too.  
  
She walks down the gangplank and stands in the sand, digging her toes into it, feeling the sun beat down on her back. For the first time in months, Azula finds the ever-present anxious tightness in her chest release, just a tiny bit. She is able to take a deep breath, in and out. She opens her palm hopefully, because breathing is the heart of firebending, after all. But there is nothing, just the same weak, half-hearted wisps of flame that she had experienced at the palace.  
  
Azula closes her hand hastily, before the servants carrying her and Chan Li's things to the house can see. It isn't too soon to avoid his notice, though, and her husband leaves Rao to his frantic attempts to dig a tunnel to the Earth Kingdom, and comes to stand by her side. "Do you have any ideas?" he asks softly.  
  
They begin to walk down the beach, away from the ship. "I need to meditate," Azula says, looking out at the ocean. "I've been reading those books from the library, and if emotional distress is what is causing this, I need to find a way to resolve these feelings as soon as possible." She shrugs irritably. "All the anecdotes in those useless reference books talked about firebenders who regained their abilities once they healed enough to _forgive_ , or let go of the anger that was poisoning them and choking their chi. What am I supposed to do, forgive my father for wanting to have me killed?"  
  
Chan Li hesitates, feeling rather out of his depth. "Of course not. But I think there might be more to this block than your feelings about Ozai."   
  
Azula looks at him out of the corner of her eye, unimpressed. "Hmm."   
  
-  
  
They eat dinner together that evening. Once they are finished, a servant comes into the room and bows deeply. "The pavilion is ready for you, Fire Lord."  
  
Azula inclines her head silently. Together, she and Chan Li walk to the meditation pavilion. It's in the forest, far enough away from the beach house that she won't be bothered by sound or activity. The pavilion is large and square, lit by torches, and the smell of burning incense is sharp in the cool night air. It is quiet and still, the guards stationed around it out of sight and making no sound. In the distance, Chan Li can hear the crashing of the waves against the sand.   
  
"I don't know how long I'm going to be here," Azula says, turning to face him. "I trust that you and the dog will find ways to occupy yourselves."   
  
"We'll manage." Chan Li holds his hands out to her, on impulse. After a moment, Azula places her hands in his own. "I hope you find peace," he tells her quietly.  
  
Azula doesn't respond, except to stretch up to kiss him on the cheek.  
  
-  
  
Once Chan Li is gone, Azula settles herself in a comfortable position on the floor of the pavilion. She places her hands on her knees and takes several deep breaths. Then she closes her eyes, and lets go.  
  
-  
  
Time slips by, and she drifts into the meditative trance. _Look into yourself_ , she orders her mind. _Reveal what you really want. Reveal the answers to the issues that plague you._  
  
Then, as they always do, the visions start.  
  
In the past, the visions had been predictable. She had always seen herself as the Fire Lord, sitting on the throne behind a wall of blue flame. The only other visions were where, to Azula's intense displeasure, she had seen herself as a small child, growing into a teenager, always alongside her mother. Visiting the royal spa together, or walking in the courtyard, or having lunch with Mai and Ty Lee. Zuko had never been in those visions, or her father. It had just been her and her mother.  
  
(Once, when she had meditated in search for answers to the things that were confusing her, all she had seen was Ty Lee, and that had been enough of an answer.)  
  
The visions that come to her now are unlike anything she's ever seen before.   
  
-  
  
Chan Li visits Azula at the pavilion the next night, after a long swim in the ocean. He approaches quietly, and he sees her sitting still as a statue, eyes closed, barely even breathing.   
  
"The Fire Lord has been like that since last night," one of the guards whispers to him, when he asks. "She hasn't moved a muscle. I've never seen anything like it."  
  
Chan Li tentatively climbs up the steps to the pavilion. Moving as quietly as he can, he approaches Azula. She's close enough that he could reach out a hand and touch her hair, but she seems so far away nevertheless. He's heard rumors that her uncle, the Dragon of the West, is one of the few mortals who can enter the Spirit World. Could it be that she has the same ability? When it comes to other matters, she's easily as skilled General Iroh, despite her youth and his advanced years.  
  
He carefully sinks into a seated position beside her. If Azula has entered the Spirit World, she needs someone to watch over her body. Chan Li looks at her for a while; at her smooth, un-furrowed brow, and wonders what that incredible mind of hers - equally a torment and a blessing, he thinks privately - is up to now.   
  
In that moment, Azula cracks one eye open and looks at him expressionlessly, and Chan Li yelps and nearly falls over.  
  
"Honestly," she sniffs. "You're a Prince Consort now. You should consider acting more dignified."  
  
Chan Li puts a hand to his chest, trying to catch his breath and recover from the shock. "Did I wake you up?" he asks. "Or interrupt you? I'm sorry. I just thought--"  
  
Azula straightens, moving her hands from her knees. "There's no need to apologize. You didn't interrupt anything. I've just been contemplating and reflecting for the past couple of hours. I was about to get up, actually."  
  
Chan Li pats her shoulder. "How was it? Do you feel…" He searches for the right word. "Better?"  
  
Azula tilts her head up to the sky, and the breeze ruffles her hair. "I suppose I do," she says, after a few moments.  
  
"Did you go to the Spirit World? You've been meditating for so long."  
  
Azula grimaces. "No, I leave that kind of foolishness to my uncle. I seek answers to my questions in the mortal realm."  
  
"Did you find them?" he asks carefully.  
  
Azula looks at him and then away, hesitating. "When I meditate, I see things," she admits, at last. "The clarity offered by the meditative trance often enlightens me by revealing the truths and answers that I didn't want to acknowledge."   
  
Chan Li holds his breath. It's rare that she offers him such insight into her thought process.  
  
"This time, I saw myself lost in a dark forest. Alone." she says quietly, her gaze following the smoke trails of the burning incense. "I faced two paths, and I didn't know which one to take. They both called to me. I finally chose one, but once I started walking down that path, the vision dissipated before my eyes."  
  
Chan Li frowns, unsure of whether to be worried or not. "What do you think that means?"  
  
"I have no idea." There is a troubled look on Azula's face. "That's not even the most befuddling of it. After that, I saw Zuko."  
  
"What?" he asks incredulously. She's told him all about their enmity, of course, at length.  
  
"I know." Azula shudders. "Imagine. The strange part is, we weren't fighting. Zuko didn't even say anything. He…he just held out his hand to me. And I took it."  
  
Chan Li blinks, nonplussed. "Spirits," he says, unable to think of anything more eloquent. "What do you think that means?"  
  
"I was as confused as you are, but I reflected on it for quite a while. I think I may have arrived at a conclusion." Azula sighs. "You know that Zuko and I were always rivals. We always stood on opposing sides from one another, and I think our parents had a great deal to do with it."   
  
Chan Li nods, understanding dawning on him. "Especially your father."  
  
"Exactly. Now that Ozai has fallen, and both of us see him for exactly what he was…" A shadow passes over Azula's face. "Could it be that Zuko and I could stand on the same side? But I don't understand how the vision could have showed that to me as a possible answer, not while Zuko is currently off with the Avatar and busy being a traitor to the Fire Nation."   
  
"Maybe Zuko will come back?" Chan Li suggests weakly.  
  
Azula sighs again, blowing an errant lock of hair away from her face. "I don't know. I've been considering it at length, and I don't wish to contemplate it further at the moment. The idea that Zuko may be a part of my future is enough to take in for now."   
  
"I can imagine it must be a shock." He places a hand on her back, rubbing it gently. Are you ready to come back? Dinner should be ready at the house."  
  
Azula allows him to help her up, and they return to the beach house together.  
  
-  
  
Despite how confusing Azula's visions and meditative trance sounded, and how Chan Li personally thinks it would have left her with more questions than answers, by the time she emerges from freshening up and a bath, she actually looks better. For the first time in recent memory, she helps herself to a healthy portion of food at dinner and finishes it, eating the miso eggplant noodles with obvious relish.   
  
After dinner, they walk down the beach, Rao trotting alongside them and wagging his tail. "I'm glad you're feeling well," Chan Li says.  
  
Azula tilts her head to the side a little. "I don't know that I've felt well since taking the throne," she admits, in a rare moment of total candor. "I feel better than I did before arriving here. I can breathe properly again, without that terrible ache and pressure in my chest. I haven't tried to firebend again, though. Perhaps it would be best to give it some time."  
  
"Whenever you feel comfortable. We have the rest of the week here, after all." They walk in silence for a while, and then he looks down at her curiously. "What other things have you seen in your visions in the past, if you don't mind me asking? You don't have to say anything if you don't want to."  
  
"I always saw myself as the Fire Lord, leading the nation to an era of unprecedented prosperity and greatness. And sometimes I saw my mother." At that, Azula gives him a quelling look that effectively forbids him from asking any further questions or making comments, and Chan Li obliges. It looks like she's on the verge of saying something else, but she stops, and he doesn't press her.  
  
"Do you know what I want?" Azula says instead, taking his arm. She looks up at him, and the open, curious way he looks at her. Chan Li always hangs on to her every word. He always listens to her. He isn't her first love, or the great love of her life - he could never be, obviously - but he is kind, steady and reliable, understanding. He had accompanied her here and he has tried his best to help her, ever since her father--  
  
"What?" he asks.   
  
Instead of a proper reply, Azula places her hands on his shoulders and pulls him down to her, pressing her lips to his. It takes Chan Li a few moments to respond. It's the first time they have kissed properly in close to two months. The last time they had kissed was before she had discovered the truth about her father and they had fought, and she had sent him into exile.    
  
They cling to each other for a long while, before finally pulling apart. "I want you to help me clear my mind," Azula says, in her firm, decisive way.  
  
"Of course," Chan Li says, a little tongue-tied, and he catches the impulsive, genuine _I'd do anything you wanted me to_ , before it slips out.   
  
They walk back to the house, hand in hand.  
  
-  
  



	23. Part 23

The last time the royal couple had stayed on the Emerald Isle, they had occupied themselves exclusively with extreme sports - kuai ball, lava pit wrestling and surfing, rafting down the Jiulong River, swimming, and rock climbing, just to name a few things. Sports seemed to be a good outlet for the Fire Lord's fierce strength, energy, and competitive nature, and it was certainly one that she enjoyed.  
  
Chan Li notices that this time is different. Azula seems more content to lie in the sun with a book, or just sit in silent contemplation on the beach. She's eating better, yes, and physically, she looks healthier than she has been in quite some time. Her face has lost the pale, pinched, anxious look it had at the palace. Most notably, yesterday morning, he had walked outside to find her standing with her face tilted up to the rising sun, a strong blue flame crackling in her open palm.  
  
"It looks like the spirits haven't completely forsaken me yet," Azula had told him, without turning around.  
  
The return of her firebending hasn't lifted her spirits like he thought it would, though. There's still an almost tangible sadness that radiates from within her, and it's gotten more pronounced the closer their return to the capital gets.  
  
She is sitting on a blanket in the sand now, watching him return from the ocean, dripping wet. Rao bounds up to Azula, reaching her before he does, and she points at the wet dog firmly. "You may not shake and spray water all over me," she decrees. "Go to your master."   
  
True to form, Rao runs back to him, and shakes and sprays cold seawater all over him. Chan Li laughs, reaching down and petting the dog. "He listens to you now," he says to Azula, who shades her eyes with her hand and looks up at him. "Soon he'll be as much your dog as mine."  
  
Azula looks over at the dog, who is now leaping away in search of mouse-crabs to antagonize. "I can hardly wait," she says, but there's a tiny smile on her lips.  
  
Chan Li offers her a seashell he had found during his dive. She takes it, curling her fingers around the shell. "Thank you."  
  
He sits down beside her. "Would you like to go for a swim?"  
  
Azula shakes her head. "I'm enjoying the sunshine. Do you know," - she tilts her head to the sky - "Now that I'm Fire Lord, and I finally got rid of Li and Lo, nobody can compel me to sit under an umbrella. I can sit in the sun all I want, and get as tan and freckled as I please."  
  
"Could you not, before?" he asks, bemused.  
  
Azula shoots him an incredulous look, but then she sighs. "That's right, you don't have sisters. Princesses and noblewomen," she says, her voice dripping sarcasm, "should remain untouched by the sun as much as possible, to ensure a pale and flawless complexion. That helps our marital prospects more than anything."   
  
Chan Li winces. "That's ridiculous."  
  
"Yes, well. Many of the things that young ladies are taught at finishing school are ridiculous." Azula's eyes gleam. "Maybe I should abolish them entirely, by royal order of the Fire Lord."  
  
He laughs, imagining the reaction of the Fire Nation nobility. "Please make another decree informing parents that their sons don't have to serve in the military, even if their fathers and grandfathers and every man in the history of their family has."  
  
Azula makes a sound that's almost a laugh, but just as quickly, the spark fades from her eyes. Chan Li looks at her, concerned. "What is it?"  
  
"Nothing," she mutters. "It's nothing."  
  
But she's frowning again, and he stays quiet for a long while, watching her draw in the sand with a finger, before he ventures to speak. "It's going back to the capital, isn't it?"  
  
Azula stiffens, as if she would deny it, but then her shoulders slump. "I don't want to," she confesses, her voice barely audible, guilt written on every inch of her. She can't even look at him. "I'm the Fire Lord, and it's the seat of my power, but everybody hates and fears me there, every single person, and - that isn't even what's bothering me. I don't _care_ that everybody hates me and thinks I'm some kind of unnatural freak, I don't. That's not it."  
  
Chan Li looks at her, struggling to determine whether that's the truth or not. "What is it, then?" he asks cautiously.   
  
"I'm not happy there," Azula bursts out. "Being the Fire Lord was supposed to make me happy, it was supposed to solve everything, but it hasn't. It's just created more problems. I sit on my throne, and instead of feeling _power_ , all I can think is that that's what my father wanted to kill me for, and that's what I wanted to get rid of Zuko for."   
  
Chan Li stares, completely startled at the outburst. Azula just looks the ocean fixedly, but finally, she leans down, pressing her forehead to her palm. "All my life, I believed it was my birthright," she says. "Absolute power. The divine right to rule. Some birthright it's been. I was happier as just the ruler of Ba Sing Se."   
  
"Azula…"  
  
"Part of me wants to stay here, on this island, away from everyone and everything." Azula looks at him, and the confusion on her face is overwhelming. "And I never run away, Chan Li. I never surrender. I never even think about it. This is wrong."  
  
He swallows over his dry throat and then takes a deep breath. "You're going to get through this," he says, trying to sound as firm and sure of himself as she always does. "I know you will."  
  
Azula glances at him out of the corner of her eye. "You're the only one in the Fire Nation that has any faith in me."  
  
"I'll stand by your side," Chan Li promises, taking her hand. "No matter what."  
  
-  
  
By the end of the week, they have returned to the Fire Nation capital. Azula had been silent for almost the entire carriage ride from the harbor to the palace, but when they arrive, she looks at the palace, lifts her chin, and enters her domain with her head held high, an expression of icy resolve on her face.  
  
She goes back to work with a vengeance, immediately holding a council meeting and decreeing that instead of attempting to re-conquer the Earth Kingdom territories that Zuko and the Avatar had liberated, the Fire Nation military should strengthen its presence in the bases and territories that are in Zuko and the Avatar's path.   
  
"We won't lose any more ground in the Earth Kingdom," Azula tells Chan Li one night, as she writes out strategies for her generals to obey. "…And I've ordered all Fire Nation officials to capture Zuko and the Avatar alive, if they encounter them, and bring them both to me." She looks up and offers him something that isn't quite a smile. "See? I'm playing nice."   
  
-  
  
The following afternoon, Chan Li looks at the calendar in his office and almost chokes on his tea. He then spends the next half hour in which he should have been reviewing correspondence, sitting with his head in his hands. "What am I going to do?" he asks Rao, who sits at his feet. The dog tilts his head and looks up at him mournfully.  
  
He isn't sure whether to broach the subject with Azula or not. It's a potentially sensitive matter, after all. After dinner, she retreats to their study with her work. Chan Li walks into the study, hesitates, and leaves three times, unable to come to a decision.   
  
The fourth time he walks in, examines a table, and then turns to leave, Azula looks up from the scrolls she is hunched over, meticulously writing out a proposal to stimulate agricultural development in the outlying Fire Nation islands. "Stop," she orders. "Your dithering is distracting me. Is there something on your mind?"  
  
Chan Li freezes guiltily, and then makes his way over to the sofa, sitting beside her. "I noticed that your birthday is next week," he says.  
  
Azula lifts her glass of water in an ironic toast. "My first birthday as an orphan. Happy sweet sixteen to me."  
  
He reaches out and places a hand on hers. "Do you really think your mother is dead?" he asks awkwardly.  
  
Instead of pulling away, Azula turns her palm up to face his. "I'm not entirely sure, but she may as well be," she says, with her typical bluntness.   
  
Chan Li rubs his thumb against the back of her hand, trying to be comforting. It isn't the first time he's realized that he is the only family she has, now, and he's determined to do right by her and ensure that her first birthday without either of her parents isn't a miserable occasion. "Is there anything special you would like for your birthday?"  
  
Azula smooths her hair over her shoulder, looking flattered by the question. "You really don't have to get me anything," she says. "The trip to the Emerald Isle was your suggestion. Besides, your parents gave me half the family jewels when we were engaged."   
  
The prospect of not needing to buy her any gifts is a relief. Azula has exacting standards and very particular tastes, and for hours, he's been agitated over what to buy for the wealthiest person in the entire Fire Nation, if not the world. "How about an experience?" Chan Li suggests, an idea suddenly occurring to him.   
  
Azula looks at him suspiciously. "An _experience_? Can you tell me what that would entail?"  
  
"I suppose I could," he says, with reluctance. "But that would spoil the spirit of the surprise."   
  
Azula narrows her eyes. "Fine," she says. "It can be a surprise. Nothing shady or too odd, though. I know what you artists are like."  
  
Chan Li laughs - privately resolving to never tell her about that one time with the mushrooms - and leans in, kissing her on the top of the head. "All right. Keep the evening of your birthday free of work, please."  
  
-  
  
Azula wakes early on the morning of her birthday. Her eyes snap open, and despite the fact that she has been trying to ignore the significance of this particular date - it's just another day of the week - her mind acknowledges it immediately.  
  
She presses the heels of her palms to her eyes, trying to block out, out, out--  
  
Birthday dinners with her parents and Zuko at Ember Island, when she had been very, very young, when she and Zuko had still been friendly, Zuko giving her a handmade card with a drawing of the two of them inside it, her father picking her up and spinning her around in his arms, her mother kissing her on the forehead. Later, from the time she was eight, birthday outings with Mai and Ty Lee, every single year until her fifteenth birthday a year ago, the first birthday without Mai and Ty Lee, alone, her father just placing his hand on her shoulder after dinner and saying _happy birthday_ with a thin smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes--  
  
Azula stumbles out of bed, careful not to wake Chan Li, who would fret. She goes to the bathroom, shuts the door behind her, turns on the faucet as loudly as it will go, and throws up into the toilet and cries.  
  
-  
  
The day passes in a blur. Azula had deliberately ensured that it would be as full of meetings as possible, so that she wouldn't have more than a couple of minutes to think about anything besides governing. She works through the half hour she takes for lunch, only stopping to receive a message Chan Li had given to one of the couriers to deliver to her.  
  
 _Meet me at my office at six_ , is all it says, in his messy handwriting. There's a smiley face at the end. Azula rolls her eyes at the smiley face and tucks the note into her pocket.   
  
-  
  
She knocks on Chan Li's office door at six sharp. He flings the door open, beaming like an excited puppy, and invites her in. To Azula's surprise, he isn't dressed in his usual outfit, what he had been wearing this morning, but drab, faded red…peasant clothing. She cringes back, startled, as he deposits an armful of similar garb into her arms. "Here," he says. "This is for you."  
  
Azula shakes out the shabby-looking red belted dress and matching hooded cloak, and then stares at him. Instead of his usual rather nice red cloak with its flame clasp, Chan Li is wearing something that looks like a black shower curtain, clasped with what appears to be a safety pin. And yet, he looks incredibly pleased with himself. "What," she asks flatly. "Why?"  
  
"Today is the second day of the Fire Lily festival," he tells her, pointing at the calendar. "I thought you and I could go and celebrate it. Not with guards or a royal escort, but properly, just the two of us, for a more authentic experience. And of course, the Fire Lord and her consort can't go out in the streets of the city alone unless we're…" He grins in anticipation. "Incognito."  
  
Azula raises an eyebrow, unsure of what to make of this harebrained scheme. "You have read one too many undercover detective novels," she says. "And you've been waiting to say that for a long time, haven't you?"  
  
Chan Li looks evasive and refuses to answer the question. "What do you think?" he asks, taking one of her hands. "Are you interested?"  
  
It obviously means a lot to him, and he had gone to the trouble to plan this outing and acquire disguises for them. "Well," Azula says, relenting. "I haven't celebrated the Fire Lily festival amongst the commoners before."    
  
"I know!" To her alarm, Chan Li actually spins her around. "We'll try all the street food. It's delicious."  
  
Street food. Imagine. Azula sighs. "All right, then. I suppose I'll have to change into this?"  
  
Chan Li helps her get out of her elaborate three layers of Fire Lord robes, and then turns around as she pulls on the peasant dress over her silk chemise. The material of the dress and cloak are rough, and they chafe against her skin. Reluctantly, Azula lets her hair down from her topknot and removes her royal hairpiece and gold earrings, before pulling her hood up. "There," she says. "Do I look like a commoner now?"  
  
Chan Li peers at her. "Not quite, but in the dark, I don't think you'll be recognizable."  
  
He opens the secret door to the passageway underneath the city, and Azula joins him in the dark tunnel, lighting a blue flame in her hand. "Is this the passageway that opens into a sewer?" she asks.  
  
"No," he replies, looking thoughtful. "This is the one that opens up behind a dumpster in the bad part of the city."  
  
Azula takes Chan Li's arm. Despite her initial reservations, she's surprised by a stirring of excitement. Sneaking out of the palace at night, in disguise, in order to celebrate a festival in the city - this is exactly the kind of thing that she would have done with Mai and Ty Lee. "Delightful," she says, and she means it.  
  
-  
  
They emerge from behind the dumpster into a particularly horrid, seedy part of the capital city. Thankfully, it appears deserted tonight, due to the festival. Still, Chan Li stays protectively close, while Azula strides fearlessly toward the heart of the city.  
  
They walk for thirty trouble-free minutes, until they turn a corner and reach the better part of the city, and the streets explode with light, color, and sound. Azula's eyes widen as she takes it all in. Musicians gather on the street corners, playing tsungi horns, flutes, muyu, zithers, and harps. Children run down the streets, flying elaborate kites and releasing paper lanterns, vying for space with the people setting off fireworks, and firebenders doing elaborate dances. The sides of the streets are packed with vendors selling every imaginable thing - food in every shape and form, kites, lanterns, sparklers--  
  
And flowers. Everywhere, there are flowers, garlands of them strung up and linking vendor stalls. There are entire stalls devoted to flowers. The fire lily, of course, and jasmine, roses, orchids, camellia, lotuses. The warm summer air smells of their heavy scent, mingling with the aroma of food and the sparks from the fireworks.   
  
It's loud and chaotic, and there are massive crowds of people milling about and wandering everywhere, actually bumping into her and Chan Li. It's a world away from the Fire Lily festivals celebrated at the palace, with the formal flower viewings in the royal gardens, the chamber orchestra playing in the background, the restrained and proper picnic in the outdoor courtyard, and watching the fireworks over the city from a balcony.   
  
"It's so different," Azula breathes, stepping out of the way to avoid being run over by several children, laughing and chasing one another down the street.   
  
"It is," Chan Li agrees happily. "Do you like it?"  
  
"I do. It certainly has its unique charms. Now," Azula says, looking up at him. "You mentioned something about food?"  
  
He absolutely lights up. Instead of taking her arm, Chan Li takes her hand and holds it, and after a trip down the crowded street, they're left precariously balancing spicy komodo chicken on a skewer, plum shrimp rolls, dumplings, a box of street noodles, and fried eel rolls. It's a bit overwhelming, honestly, but it smells good. It's been a long time since she's had an appetite, but it seems to have returned full force since her trip to the Emerald Isle. Azula's mouth waters. "Which of this do you think will be best?" she asks, almost shouting so that he can hear her over the din.  
  
Chan Li unwraps one of the plum shrimp rolls, and to her surprise, he holds it to her  lips. "Try this," he suggests.  
  
The crisp, oily skin of the roll brushes her lips, and this is most indecorous, eating in public and amongst a crowd while standing up like this, but Azula takes a large bite anyway. It's hot and the flavor explodes in her mouth, and it is much tastier than anything she had expected to eat from a street vendor working out of a stall smaller than her bathroom.   
  
"This is excellent!" she says, her mouth full - what _would_ Li and Lo say? - and Chan Li laughs and gives her rest of the roll.   
  
"There's a sour orange sauce that goes with it," he says. "It's in the bag, but I can't eat it. It gives me hives."  
  
"Everything sour gives you hives," Azula replies, before taking one of the chicken skewers from his hands and brandishing it at him. "Now it's your turn."  
  
They feed each other their dinner, standing at the edge of the street, under the shade of a lit-up tree. The food is oily and fatty and exactly the kind of thing she was never allowed to eat growing up, and Azula loves it. The two of them walk a little bit after, exploring the vendors and watching a parade that weaves through the streets, featuring wonderful floats decorated with leaves and flower petals. Chan Li buys her a garland made of fragrant jasmine and drapes it around her neck, and for the first time, Azula wonders if the way he treats her is motivated by something more than the duty and responsibility husbands owe to their wives.   
  
They stand and watch the fireworks together, after returning to the space and privacy afforded by the end of the street, away from the majority of the crowds and vendors. Chan Li watches the riot of color against the dark sky, utterly absorbed, and Azula leans against him. "Thank you," she says quietly. "For tonight. It was one of the kindest things anyone has genuinely done for me."  
  
He leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead, and impulsively, Azula wraps her hands around the back of his neck and pulls him down to her lips. They hold one another for a long time, until the fireworks finally come to a stop.   
  
-


	24. Part 24

One week after her birthday, Azula staggers out of bed and makes her way to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She stands with her back to the mirror, trying to calm herself. It had taken quite a while for her to remove the black towels and sheets from the mirrors in the royal suite, and to have the mirror in her dressing room replaced. She still tries to look at mirrors as infrequently as possible, even though she hasn't seen that - that _apparition_ of her mother since the night after the…execution.   
  
It occurs to her that this is the last thing she should be thinking about while trying to calm herself. The memories, always so tentatively held at bay, come rushing back at once. The crackle of the lightning, the look in Ozai's eyes before she had struck - bravado quickly turning to horror - and the way he had twitched and convulsed before his heart had given out, and the _smell_ \--  
  
Azula rushes to the toilet and throws up, losing the battle against the queasiness that had plagued her since the previous night. It takes an effort to stand up again afterward, and only then does she hear the knocks on the door.   
  
"Come in," she calls, trying to sound as dignified and commanding as she can, while wiping her mouth and reaching for her toothbrush.   
  
Chan Li enters, still in his sleeping clothes, and looking concerned. "Are you all right?"   
  
"I was sick. Are you sure there was nothing wrong with the tofu stir-fry last night? I told you I didn't like the smell of it."  
  
"I feel fine." He frowns, and then rests his hand against her forehead, taking her temperature. "Do you think it was the food from the festival last week?"   
  
"I don't know." Azula rubs her forehead irritably. It's been aching more than usual over the past several days. "I don't think so. I didn't start to feel ill until a few days afterward."  
  
"Do you want to take some time off today to rest?"   
  
It's a tempting suggestion, as she's been tired of late, but she doesn't allow herself a moment to consider it. "I have a few important meetings to attend to," Azula says. "Would you send a servant to the royal physician to pick up a nausea-suppressing drought for me?"  
  
Chan Li nods. "I'll make sure he delivers it to you before lunch."  
  
He leaves, and Azula leans against the closed door. In a rare moment of weakness, she presses the heels of her palms to her aching eyes, and thinks of the comfort of her bed and the warm, heavy blankets.   
  
-  
  
The royal physician sends Azula her best anti-nausea drought, a foul, thin drink that smells overwhelmingly of ginger. It is completely ineffective. She doesn't throw up for the next few days, true, but she still feels queasy and unsettled all the time.   
  
"It could be stress," Chan Li suggests over dinner later that week, watching her pick out the egg from her fried rice, with a worried look in his eyes.   
  
He has a point. She had felt ill to the point of barely being able to eat anything, and sleeping excessively, after everything that had happened with her father, but… Azula shakes her head, taking a sip of her water. At least she's gotten past wishing it were wine. "I thought that I had moved past that," she says shortly.   
  
Chan Li places his hand on hers. He does a very good job of masking the fact that he's utterly disturbed by the things that she has done. "It might be a long process," he says, in his mild, diplomatic way.  
  
Azula scowls. "I told myself I would stop taking that calming draught, though."   
  
"Perhaps you should go see her and ask if she has anything milder," he suggests, and then he gives her a tentatively hopeful look. "My mother swears by lavender and chamomile teas and scented oils."   
  
Azula heaves a sigh. She dislikes seeing the royal physician, to say the least, but it appears that there is no helping it. "Fine," she says. "I'll go tomorrow, after I'm finished with work."   
  
-  
  
The physician's office is too cold, as always. Azula reluctantly disrobes, sitting on the hard steel table in the middle of the office in just her silk chemise. "I don't see why an examination is necessary," she says coldly. It's been a long day, and all she would like to do is go to her rooms and rest, and Mingyu has just made that end goal farther away. "I told you what I wanted from you."  
  
"It's standard procedure, Fire Lord," Mingyu says, fluttering around her like an anxious butterfly. "Just to make sure that you're physically healthy. It has been a while since your last visit."  
  
 _That's because I would rather join a peasant dance troupe than be forced to respond to your probing questions, you cow_ , Azula thinks. She forces a smile. "Yes, well, I've been busy with my duties as Fire Lord."  
  
"Now, what issues have you had?" Mingyu asks, peering at her closely. "Is it just the nausea?"  
  
"No. I've been experiencing fatigue and headaches as well."   
  
Mingyu is looking at her far too closely. At least she hasn't made any rude comments about her weight, or asked any questions about her _mental state_ , yet. "Hmm," the physician says, looking thoughtful. "Hmm."   
  
Azula opens her mouth to make a cutting remark about how the diagnosis should be simple, when the physician blindsides her. "Fire Lord," she says, bowing deeply. "I apologize for the personal nature of this inquiry, but when was your last monthly course?"  
  
Azula blinks, taken aback. "I don't know," she snaps. She's never been regular - the loathsome event happens every month and a half, every month, or every two months, and she's never cared enough to keep track. "How is this relevant? These can't be premenstrual symptoms. I haven't had any cramps."  
  
"You can't remember when you last bled?" Mingyu makes a note in her chart, and Azula grits her teeth at the physician's disapproving tone. "I asked because nausea, fatigue, and headaches are all early symptoms of pregnancy. Remembering the date of your last course would have helped, but there are ways to check, regardless."  
  
It takes the words a few moments to register, and she just stares, taken aback, before remembering to hide it. "Yes," Azula says coolly. "I suppose so."   
  
_Early symptoms of pregnancy_? Despite her external calm, befitting the most powerful woman in the world, the words repeat in her mind over and over again, and she bites her tongue to break the cycle. Of course. How could she have been so stupid? She and Chan Li have been together for so long - long enough that a few months ago, she had wondered if Mingyu had missed something during their physical exams. _It shouldn't take this long, should it?_ she had wondered, before dismissing the thought. There was nobody to ask - no mother, no friends, no Li and Lo, and broaching the subject with her mother-in-law or Chan Li would have been unbearably humiliating.   
  
She mutely follows Mingyu's instructions to lie down on the examination table, and her mind is racing so fast that she doesn't even flinch at the feeling of the physician's cold hands on her upper arm, helping her lie down. Azula stares at the ceiling, vaguely conscious of Mingyu's warm, energy-covered palms moving over her stomach. It all feels so surreal, like it's happening to somebody else, or she's outside of her body watching everything take place. She wishes she wasn't alone.   
  
Finally, Mingyu helps her up, and then clasps her hands in front of her and bows deeply. "Congratulations, Fire Lord," she says, with feeling, and Azula feels her stomach plummet. "The Fire Nation can expect an heir to the throne in approximately seven months."  
  
-  
  
Mingyu blathers on for the next half hour, about pregnancy and early pregnancy and her health and what she can expect, and what she must do and must not do for her health and the health of the future heir. Azula stares at her and nods at the appropriate times. If Chan Li was here, he would be hanging on to her every word and taking notes, most likely.  
  
Finally, the physician presses a remedy for morning sickness into her hands, as well as a reminder for her next appointment, and congratulates her once more. Azula leaves the office, feeling somewhat dazed. She had been planning to head to her suite and bathe and relax until dinner, but her feet carry her elsewhere, out to the royal courtyard.  
  
She sits among the roses and stares at them, and after some time, she leans forward, burying her head in her hands, and then raking her fingers through her hair, so hard that they hurt her scalp. _I don't want this_ , Azula thinks, and that's all she can think, over and over again. _Idon'twantthis, Idon'twantthis, Idon'twant--_  
  
Her breath is coming faster, and her fingers itch with the urge to shoot lightning, or throw something. She hadn't wanted marriage, and she doesn't want to be a mother.  
  
But that's the price of being the Fire Lord. You've always known that. The voice that speaks in her head sounds horribly like her father, and Azula shudders, trying to push it away.   
  
A Fire Lord needed a consort and an heir. She had known that since she had been a little girl. But that doesn't change the fact that her chest is hurting again, horribly. She feels trapped. And there's something growing inside her, right at this moment. An infant, a baby, for someone who had never even been interested in playing with dolls, not for a moment. For someone who had murdered her own father, and been hated by her mother, and tried to kill her brother too, just for good measure.   
  
Azula feels hysterical laughter coming on, or maybe it's screaming, and she buries her head in her hands again, to stop it.   
  
-  
  
She lets herself sit like that for a long time, and then she forces herself to breathe in and out, in and out, slow and deep, over and over again, until the dark spots and shadows recede from her vision.   
  
She can't fall to pieces over this. She can't afford to become distracted and unsettled, the way she had after the revelation of her father's treachery. Despite her intense reservations about the betrothal, her marriage to Chan Li had given her a solid ally, after all. She just has to do the same with the - the baby, when it is born. She will care for it and raise it in her image, and if she gives it enough love and care, it will surely love her in return. And it will be loyal to her.   
  
After all, Azula reflects, wrapping her arms around her middle, she had given her father her love and loyalty, on much less.   
  
-  
  
It takes some time to gather the emotional energy, but she finally rises and returns to her rooms. As he had told her this morning, Chan Li is gone, out for dinner with his friends, and his dog greets her excitedly when she enters the royal suite. The dog pushes his head against her stomach, sniffing it, and Azula pats it on the head once. "It appears that you'll have someone else to fawn over soon," she says, testing the words out in her mouth, and the dog responds by frantically wagging its tail.  
  
She takes a long, hot bath, processing, letting it all sink in. Afterward, she eats alone, lost in thought, and thankfully manages to keep the food down. Azula has just settled down in the study with an armful of reports from the Earth Kingdom when she hears clattering in the sitting room and a joyful bark, meaning that Chan Li has returned.  
  
"Azula?" he calls. "I'm back."  
  
"I'm in here."  
  
He enters, looking relaxed and happy, and places his hands on her shoulders, kissing the top of her head. "Did you eat already?"   
  
Azula inclines her head. "I did. How are Renshu and Xue?"  
  
"They're fine. Xue is due any day now." Chan Li beams, sinking down on the sofa beside her. "They loved the baby mobile and the books."   
  
"I'm glad." Azula hesitates, wondering whether to take the provided opportunity and deliver the news. No finishing school teacher or etiquette tutor had provided her or any of her classmates with the proper procedure for informing one's husband that they were expecting. At least she knows that he won't be upset. Chan Li had fussed over his younger brother to no end when Chan had been born, apparently, and he's been excited about his friends becoming parents for the first time.  
  
"How was your appointment with the physician?" Chan Li asks blithely. "Did she give you anything to help with your nausea?"   
  
Azula takes a deep breath. It occurs to her that she would rather conquer Ba Sing Se all over again than have this conversation. "Well," she says. "Apparently, it was morning sickness. We can expect our own in seven months."  
  
Chan Li blinks. He blinks again and stares at her as if she had just spoken in a foreign language, and when he finally speaks, his voice is small. "Are you serious?"  
  
Azula fixes him with a deadpan look, and for the first time, it hits her that this is the father of her future child. It's a strange feeling. Not unpleasant, considering what other men are like, but strange. "No," she says. "I'm making jokes, because I've always been known for my levity."  
  
Chan Li makes an odd choking sort of sound, and then he hugs her. Azula ends up with her face squished into his shoulder. He's cupping the back of her head with his hand and she can feel his heart racing. When they finally pull apart, he takes her hands, looking at her seriously. "How are you feeling?"   
  
She has the impression that he's not asking about how she feels physically, and Azula shrugs, looking at his wrists. "I don't know," she says. "I never wanted children. I never really thought about children. It's just something I knew I had to do, and now I'm doing it."   
  
"Is it safe, though?" he asks, visibly anxious. "You're so young. I thought - I mean, I thought that your body was shutting all of that down until you were more ready. I, uh," he says belatedly. "I don't know much about how these things work."   
  
Azula sighs. "I don't either, but apparently not. Your mother must have been close to my age when you were born, and I know that my former friends' mothers were young, as well. In any case, Mingyu didn't seem concerned in the least."   
  
Chan Li rubs his thumbs over the backs of her hands, and when he finally speaks, his voice is soft. "Are you going to be all right?"   
  
She can't remember the last time things were _all right_ in her life - maybe when she had been traveling the Earth Kingdom with Mai and Ty Lee, in pursuit of the Avatar. But Azula looks him in the eye nevertheless, and then away, past his shoulder. "I will," she says, and her voice comes out sounding oddly stiff and formal, despite how hard she feels it, how intensely and painfully, with every breath she takes. "If I'm going to be a mother, I want to be a good parent. I will be a good parent."  
  
This time, Chan Li's breath catches audibly in his chest, and she can't face the way he's looking at her. He hugs her tightly, and Azula leans against him, willing herself not to cry.   
  
-  
  



	25. Part 25

Kimiko collects newspapers.  
  
She reads every newspaper she can get her hands on. She never misses a single day's paper. Her days are busy, from sunrise until sunset. There is the house to maintain, the meals to prepare, the errands that need to be run, the three children that need to be cared for. During the day, she hardly has time to rest for even a moment.  
  
But at night, when Yuming and the children have gone to bed, Kimiko returns to her small room and lights the old gas lamp and reads every word of the day's newspaper, from cover to cover.   
  
She has a particular interest in stories from the Earth Kingdom colonies, about the Avatar and his band of rebels, trying to liberate the colonies from Fire Nation control, town by town. Kimiko cuts out each of those articles and sets them in a drawer. Some articles mention the traitorous Prince Zuko by name, and Kimiko reads them over and over again, holding the clippings so tight that sometimes they crumple. It's hard to let go of those and put them into the drawer.  
  
The other articles that Kimiko seeks out are those that report on stories from the capital. The night that Kimiko reads about how Princess Azula has been crowned Fire Lord Azula, First of Her Name, in the aftermath of the former Phoenix King Ozai's defeat at the hands of the Avatar, she puts her head in her hands and sits there for a long while. Foreboding paralyzes her, rooting her to the spot. With every heavy thud of her heart, she thinks of Azulon, of Ozai, of their fates and the monsters they had become. She remembers her and Ozai living with Azulon, that poisonous viper, and how that had ended, and she thinks of Azula with Ozai still in the palace, now. _Not Azula_ , she thinks, prays. _Please, not Azula._  
  
Fire Lord Azula's coronation is all that the people of the tiny coastal village, on the very outskirts of the Fire Nation, can talk about for days. They comment on her reputation for brilliance and her unparalleled firebending skills. They also comment on her extreme youth, her lack of experience, her gender. Everywhere she goes, Kimiko hears them talk about what a shame it is that Fire Lord Ozai, _Prince_ Ozai now, should be forced to step down in favor of his teenage daughter, when he's the more experienced ruler and clearly better for the Fire Nation.   
  
Kimiko presses her lips together and refrains from commenting, until Yuming brings it up over a cup of tea one night. The house is quiet. The children have gone to bed, and Kimiko had been sweeping the kitchen, while Yuming reviews some paperwork and drinks her tea.   
  
"You know," Yuming says, and Kimiko pauses her sweeping momentarily. "I wonder if all the people criticizing what's going on in the capital would be as vocal about it if it were Prince Zuko succeeding the former Fire Lord, instead of Princess Azula."  
  
Kimiko tenses up before she realizes that it had just been a casual comment, and when she turns around, Yuming is looking at her, wide-eyed and innocent and waiting for a reply. Of course she is. Nobody really remembers Princess Ursa, after all. Even if they did, nobody would see any resemblance between the former Fire Nation princess, and a mere housekeeper with sun-browned skin, shoulder-length hair, and a wine-stained birthmark covering most of her face.   
  
"I'm not sure they would," Kimiko says diplomatically. She cares for Yuming, and would think of her as a daughter, if thinking of daughters wasn't so painful. But Yuming is much younger than her and has been raised much differently, and she has views on gender and gender inequality that are completely foreign from anything that Kimiko has ever known.   
  
Yuming nods in agreement. "Exactly." She takes another sip of her tea. "I'm sure that Fire Lord Azula will lead the country well," she says. "She'll be a good role model for the nation's girls and young women."  
  
"Yes," Kimiko says softly. "I hope so."   
  
-  
  
Kimiko religiously follows the news coming out of the capital and tries to read between the lines, tries to decode every word to figure out whether the writer is implying that there might be some strife between Prince Ozai and Fire Lord Azula. This is a completely unprecedented situation, as the columnists have pointed out - having a former Fire Lord alive and not holding the throne, or imprisoned. Newspaper columnists and local gossips alike have been torn between suspecting power struggles between the former Fire Lord and the current one, or choosing to embrace the idea of father and daughter working together in harmony, the daughter content to rule the nation with her father's guidance.   
  
Kimiko thinks she knows which story is closer to the truth.   
  
She goes on like this for months. And when the biggest news comes, she doesn't have to read between the lines. It's plastered, large and bold, on the front-page headline itself.   
  
The Fire Lord is engaged, at the young age of fifteen, to marry the oldest son of one of the Fire Nation's greatest admirals. The wedding will take place in three months' time.   
  
Kimiko is supposed to be making lunch, but when she shakes the paper open to read that, she sits at the kitchen table and stares, numb. It feels like she was slapped.   
  
She's too young. Azula can't get married. She's much too young. She shouldn't marry for another year, at the very least. Most girls of her social station don't marry until they're seventeen.   
  
She knows Admiral Chan and his wife, Lady Suyin. Admiral Chan has been friends with Ozai for decades, long before she and Ozai were married. She remembers Admiral Chan's oldest son from her visits to Chan and Suyin's family estate. She had been pregnant with Zuko, and Suyin had been pregnant with the younger son. Chan Li, the older one, had been a teenager already, thirteen or fourteen, and he had struck her as a gentle, pleasant, soft-spoken boy. But after dinner, when Suyin and she had been chatting, Suyin had bemoaned the boy's lack of intellect and ambition, and his lackadaisical, laid-back nature. Kimiko - Ursa, she had been, at that time - had thought that there was nothing wrong with Chan Li, but Suyin had patted her pregnant stomach and said that she hoped that the new child would take more after her husband.   
  
The teenager with the messy hair she remembers, Chan Li, must be twice Azula's age now, twenty-nine or thirty. A grown man.   
  
Kimiko wants to scream. She wants to take the pots and pans and throw them against the wall and make them shatter. This is Ozai's doing, she knows it. She can't guess at his motivations and she doesn't want to guess. Someone else might want to think that this must have been done in Azula's best interest, but Ozai never acts in anyone's interest but his own. Guessing at his motivations makes bile rise in her throat, and she swallows hard. _Don't be so paranoid,_ she tells herself, but how can anyone expect anything but the worst from a man who had cruelly disfigured his son's own face?   
  
She paces the room like a caged lioness. _If I were there, this wouldn't have happened_ , she thinks to herself, and then a memory resurfaces, of Zuko and the turtleduck pond.   
  
_That's what moms are like_ , she had told him. _If you mess with their babies, they're going to bite you back._  
  
Kimiko thinks of her babies, one lost far from home in the Earth Kingdom, one in the viper's pit of the capital, and her sitting here and helpless to do anything for either of them, and she puts her head in her hands and cries.  
  
-  
  
On the morning of Azula's wedding day, Kimiko makes breakfast for Yuming and the children, and packs lunch for them. After Yuming leaves, walking the two older boys to school on her way to work as the assistant to the town's mayor, Kimiko normally cleans the house and gets ready to run the day's errands.  
  
Today, she bends down to the youngest girl's height, and looks her in the eye. "Hana, would you like to play in the backyard for a little while?" she asks.   
  
Hana is five years old and has grown up with Kimiko, and her face lights up with utter delight. "Yes, yes, yes!"  
  
She takes Kimiko by the hand and pulls her out to the backyard. The sky is filled with heavy gray clouds, not a single ray of light shining through, and it threatens to rain. Kimiko wonders how the weather is in the capital, and she hopes with everything in her that this isn't some sort of bad omen.  
  
Hana immediately picks up a stick to sword fight with imaginary enemies, and Kimiko smiles a little, remembering another girl who had been more interested in combat than dolls. If only she had known then what she knows now.   
  
The sword fight should entertain Hana for a while, and Kimiko takes the opportunity to place several sticks of incense in the holder on the small shrine. She lights them with a match and then bows her head, folding her hands into her sleeves.  
  
She hasn't been sleeping well, ever since the news of Azula's engagement broke. She tosses and turns at night, plagued by fears, or wakes up in the middle of the night, gripped with anxiety. She can't help but wonder if Azula is doing the same, in the capital, and if she is afraid. Poor girl, all alone.   
  
All she wants is for this marriage to bring Azula happiness. She prays, with every fiber of her being, that it will be happy, that all will be well, that Chan Li will never, ever mistreat Azula or treat her with anything but the utmost kindness and respect. She doesn't want this marriage to be a repeat of what happened between her and Ozai, and she's afraid-- She's always afraid now, for Azula and Zuko both, but sometimes she fears that Zuko is safer than Azula, and--  
  
"Kimi, why are you crying?"  
  
Kimiko opens her eyes, wiping at them at once, to find Hama standing beside her and staring up at her anxiously. She tries to smile, holding her hand out to the little girl. "I'm worried about my daughter," she says. The story she had given Yuming and the children, and every other family she had worked with since leaving the capital, was that she had two children. A son and a daughter, both Fire Nation soldiers stationed in the Earth Kingdom. Maybe it would have been smarter to keep that a secret too, just like every other detail of her past, but she could never deny them. She could never deny Zuko and Azula.   
  
Hama looks at her soberly. "Is your daughter okay? Mama says your children are fighting in the war."   
  
Kimiko takes a deep breath, trying to hold on to her composure. "I don't know if she is," she says. "I'm praying for her to be safe."   
  
Hama nods, after a few moments, and places her small hand in Kimiko's. "Can I pray with you?"   
  
"Yes," she replies, her voice cracking. "Yes, you may. Thank you."   
  
They stand together, hand-in-hand, heads bowed in prayer.  
  
-  
  
Months later, when Kimiko hears about the attempted assassination of the Prince Consort and the poisoned arrow that had struck him in the arm, she doesn't know what to think. She puzzles about it as she cleans the kitchen, dusts the rooms, washes the clothes, and does all the chores that usually take up her day.   
  
She had followed the news of the attempted uprising against Azula, in support of the former Fire Lord, closely. She had read about how Azula's forces quelled the uprising and how Prince Chan Li executed the mastermind behind it. Prince Ozai had claimed he knew nothing about the plot to unseat Azula and place him back on the throne, of course.  
  
The newspapers say that Azula's guard had been unable to verify the identity of the assassin, or find any information on who paid him. Kimiko may be a housekeeper and nursemaid now, but she had been intimately acquainted with the shady inner workings of the royal court for years. Her first instinct is to think that the family of the lord who Chan Li executed is seeking retribution, but she abandons that idea quickly. The Fire Lord had drained their coffers as punishment for Lord Tenshi's treason, and stripped them of their titles and lands. They wouldn't have the resources.   
  
Kimiko isn't proud of the thought that comes to her next, as she's scrubbing the bathtub. It makes her spine stiffen and her whole body tense up. If Azula had arranged the whole thing to get Chan Li out of her way, because the marriage wasn't going well--  
  
She sits on the rim of the bathtub, hating herself for even entertaining such a thought about her own daughter. _It can't be_ , she tells herself, after a while. It's true that it is something Azula would do…and there's no judgment in that thought. She doesn't have room for judgment, after what she had done to Azulon, her daughter's namesake.   
  
Kimiko thinks long and hard about it, but she isn't sure. All accounts from the capital that have made their way into the newspapers stated that the Fire Lord had been enraged over the attempt on her husband's life.   
  
Finally, she pulls herself to her feet, and as much as it's been nagging at her, she sets the matter aside. No matter what kind of unrest is brewing in the capital, as long as Azula is safe, that's the only thing that matters.   
  
-  
  
She starts to pray at the shrine every morning.   
  
-  
  
And still, one of her two worst fears comes true. Yuming returns from work one evening, as Kimiko is helping the boys with their schoolwork. "Did you hear what happened?" is the first thing she says, her eyes wide.   
  
Kimiko thinks that it's something in the town. "What?" she asks, directing a worried glance over her shoulder, at the children. "Was there another mugging?"  
  
Yuming shakes her head. "No," she says, lowering her voice. "You didn't get the newspaper today, did you? There was an attempt on the Fire Lord's life."  
  
To her credit, she stays standing, and her knees don't buckle, and when the tiny, shocked cry escapes her mouth, Yuming just nods in sympathy, one mother to another. "Isn't it frightening? She survived, though, and fought off the attacker with her own bare hands."  
  
The words let her breathe again, but she's still lightheaded. "What a relief," Kimiko says faintly. In all these years that she's been away, there was only one time maintaining the pretense had been this hard - when she had heard about what happened to Zuko, her own precious son, at Ozai's hands. All she wants is to demand details, and it's so hard to keep from envisioning horrible images of Azula attacked by some faceless man in a vulnerable moment.   
  
"And what a testament to the Fire Lord's strength," Yuming adds, amazed, but then her face falls. "There's concern that there's some kind of conspiracy going on," she whispers, careful to ignore her sons' curious looks. "You remember the attack on Prince Chan Li. They couldn't identify the assassin this time, either. The paper said that they're doubling security around Prince Ozai, just in case this is some sort of vendetta against the whole royal family."  
  
Somehow, she doubts it. She doubts it very much. But Kimiko just nods. "I hope they will be safe," she says. "It's been a difficult several months for the Fire Lord and her husband."  
  
-  
  
Kimiko has suffered from nightmares for years, but now she starts losing sleep. It doesn't come for her at all.   
  
She paces in her room, in the dark of night.  
  
Somebody wants her daughter dead.  
  
She writes up lists of potential suspects, including twenty powerful and wealthy lords who she knows are strong allies of the former Fire Lord.   
  
She adds Chan Li's name to the list automatically, because of his father's ties to Ozai, but then she pauses. It's strange, because she knows nothing about Azula's relationship with this man, but after several minutes, she crosses him off. It's instinct, perhaps, a mother's instinct. Or maybe it's the fact that she just cannot bear to think that the man Azula has been sharing her life with for the past several months could be capable of plotting to kill her.   
  
And yet, she hesitates, with her brush to the paper, underneath Chan Li's struck through name. There's another suspect, but she can't bear to name him, either. She can't. Even after Zuko. Because she remembers how Ozai had loved Azula, loved her for being _her_ , before she had started firebending training and shocked them all with her skill. She remembers how he had carried her around everywhere, when she was a toddler, never letting her walk, and how he had fed her cake on her third birthday party on Ember Island.   
  
But that was _before_ , that dark little voice in her head tells her. The Ozai she had known at the end, the Ozai who had hurt Zuko, bore no resemblance to the man he had been when Azula was a baby.  
  
Kimiko feels as though she might be sick. She tears the paper up into tiny, tiny little shreds, unable to cope with it anymore, and collapses on her bed, clutching her pillow to her body in the darkness.  
  
-  
  
One week later, Kimiko walks to the market to do some shopping, and the news is all around her, on everybody's lips. There isn't a single person in the market who isn't talking about it, from the vegetable vendors to the butchers to the fish sellers, and every townsperson there to shop.  
  
She hears snatches of conversation, at first. _Prince Chan Li found out_ , and _Prince Ozai_ , and _imprisoned_ and _assassin_. She fills in the blanks from there, standing like a mute, frozen thing while the eggplant merchant and the lady in front of her in line discuss the latest news from the capital, their eyes wide with disbelief.   
  
Then black spots creep into her vision, and the sounds of the market, the horrible words she hears, recede into nothingness. She feels like she might faint, like she did when she had heard about what happened to Zuko. Kimiko takes several deep breaths, forcing herself to get some air, willing herself to keep from screaming and making a scene in the middle of the market.  
  
She drags herself back home on leaden, unsteady legs, her bags empty. She lets herself in, stares around, and barely makes it to the bathroom before getting violently sick. She sobs, clutching the toilet, unable to cope with the horror of it all. Ozai alone with the children for all those years, maiming Zuko and exiling him, plotting to kill his own daughter, _their_ daughter, to reclaim the throne. She can't do anything but imagine what Azula is going through now, Azula, who had always loved her father and only him.   
  
It feels like knives in her stomach, a wrenching, indescribable pain. Kimiko cries so hard she can't even breathe, and finally, just as she had done last time, she succumbs to the darkness.  
  
-  
  
She comes to on the bathroom floor, with Yuming cradling her in her arms, looking frantic and desperate.   
  
"I'm sorry," Kimiko tries to say, but Yuming shushes her immediately, wiping her damp hair away from her face.  
  
"Ryou, Aki!" she calls to her sons, hovering anxiously near the door. "Get a wet towel, now!"  
  
The boys dash off at once, and Kimiko realizes that she can't allow the wet towel to get anywhere near her face. The cosmetics that she uses to paint on the wine-stained birthmark that covers much of the right side of her face (remarkably similar to Zuko's scar) are waterproof, but there's no need to take chances. "I'm all right," she tells Yumiko. "I'm sorry, I…"  
  
"Shh, it's okay," Yuming says. "There's no need to apologize, Kimi. You must have the bug that's been going around. The mayor herself went home sick early today."  
  
It's a convenient excuse, and Kimiko nods. She politely declines the wet towel when the boys bring it, but Yuming insists on lifting her up and walking her to her room. The younger woman's presence is solid and comforting, but all it makes Kimiko think of is her own daughter, and that makes her want to cry again.  
  
"This isn't necessary," she protests, as Yuming peels her blankets back and helps her get into bed. She needs the distraction; she needs to not dwell on it, because it might drive her mad. "I can cook dinner."  
  
"Nonsense," Yuming says, at once. "You relax for the next few days, until you feel better. I'll send the boys with tea and food as soon as it's ready."  
  
She leaves, quietly closing the door behind her. Kimiko tilts her head back to the ceiling, and tries not to weep.  
  
-  
  
It takes three days before Yuming is convinced that she's feeling better and Kimiko is allowed to resume her duties, under strict orders to not over-exert herself.   
  
Yuming brings her a cup of tea at night on the third day, looking unusually sober. "What's wrong?" Kimiko asks, after thanking her. The cup is warm in her hands. "Are you feeling ill?"  
  
"A little," Yuming says, perching on the edge of Kimiko's bed, and she waves her hand vaguely. "It's not what you and the mayor had, though. It's…all the news coming out of the capital, to be honest."  
  
Kimiko swallows over the cold, hard lump forming in her throat. She hasn't had a chance to see any newspapers since…the news broke. She doesn't think she can bear it. "What is it?" she asks, trying to sound calm and neutral.  
  
"The Fire Lord is executing Prince Ozai tomorrow morning, personally." Yuming takes a deep breath, obviously trying to calm herself, and Kimiko looks down at her wavering reflection in her tea, in an attempt to hide how the words shatter her.   
  
"I see," she says quietly.   
  
"Most don't, but I think it's justified, after what he did to her and to her brother," Yuming says shortly. "It's just that…the children have been asking questions. They're confused. I didn't want them to hear about it, but it's all that anyone talks about. They - they asked me if it was true, and how a father could want to kill his own daughter, and…Kimi?"  
  
Kimiko nods, hastily wiping away her tears. "It's terrible," she says, her voice cracking. She knows that Yuming will only see a sensitive woman, another mother of a daughter, just like she is. That's all. "It's a monstrosity."   
  
Yuming blinks away tears of her own. "Yes," she says. "I know it's silly, but it makes me think of Katsu." Her voice falters. "He was such a good father. He would have never done - a good man would have never done--"  
  
Kimiko places her hand on Yuming's, a silent comfort, and Yuming grips her hand tightly. "Poor girl," she whispers, at last. "Poor, motherless girl. I've never even seen her, only read the papers, and my heart breaks for her."  
  
The words strike at the core of her - _poor, motherless girl_ \- and Kimiko nods mutely, her chest aching too intensely to speak.   
  
-  
  
Kimiko remembers what time executions took place in the royal palace.  
  
At ten in the morning, while she's sweeping, the breath goes out of her. She leans on her broom. She thinks about it, tries in vain not to envision what's happening in the capital, her daughter with her ice-cold eyes, facing down the man who had been her husband long ago.   
  
At eleven in the morning, she knows it must be over. Kimiko leans against the wall and she takes a deep breath, remembering her wedding vows, sealing her to Ozai until death should part them, and--  
  
She knows it's over.  
  
She finishes her chores as quickly as she can, and lies in her bed for the next few hours, processing, staring blankly at the ceiling.   
  
-  
  
The bold, blaring headline in the next morning's paper confirms it. Prince Ozai executed at the hands of his daughter, Fire Lord Azula, personally, by way of lightning--  
  
Kimiko can hardly bear to look at it. A second after pulling it open, she crumples it shut and throws it into her bedside drawer, her heart racing. Her former husband, the man who had maimed her son and tried to kill her daughter, is dead. And she doesn't know how to feel. She's _glad_ he's dead. She's wanted it for so long.   
  
But not like this. Oh, spirits, not like this.  
  
-  
  
The public reaction is unbelievable. Everywhere Kimiko goes, she hears things, and the words land on her like harsh slaps to the face.   
  
At first, she thinks she's hallucinating. Because people are being _sympathetic_ to Ozai, the monster.  
  
"How terrible it must have been, dying at the hands of his own daughter, even as he pleaded for his life," she hears the neighbors saying to one another, as they talk over the fence.  
  
One of the women shakes her head disapprovingly. "What has happened to filial piety in this nation?"  
  
Kimiko hears two grandmothers from down the street discussing the matter as she walks behind them to the market. "So merciless, so cold," one of them says. "Very unfeminine."   
  
"What do you expect, growing up without a mother?" the other replies.   
  
That isn't the worst of it. There are outdoor tables at the tea shops where she hears awful things in hushed whispers as she passes by. _Insane, disturbed, unbalanced. Cursed is the kinslayer--_  
  
When Kimiko turns the corner, she has to stop, lean against the wall of one of the buildings, and try to catch her breath; she's breathing so hard. The inside of her cheek has sore spots from where she's bitten it to keep silent and her lips ache from pressing together to seal the words in.   
  
"Prince Ozai suffered in life," the vegetable vendor says sympathetically, to the women ahead of her in line, as he wraps up their bundles of spinach. "First, having a disrespectful and insubordinate son, and then having such a daughter--"  
  
"How _dare_ you!"   
  
The words tear out of Kimiko without her consent, without her even realizing it, not until the vendor and the people ahead of her in line turn and look at her, taken aback by the outburst. She tries not to tremble, tries to bite back her outrage. "Have some compassion," she says stiffly. "They're just children."  
  
She turns and leaves to seek another vendor, and she makes up her mind.  
  
-  
  
When Kimiko returns home, she cooks dinner, finishing with some time to spare before picking the children up from school.  
  
After cooking, she retreats to her room, unearths her travel pack, and begins to pack her things. Her daughter needs her. She should have done this the day she had heard the news. It breaks her heart to leave Yuming and the children, but Azula needs her more.   
  
But halfway through packing, she sinks to her knees on the floor and buries her head in her hands, unable to go on further. _Get up_ , she tells herself furiously. _Get up_. Her traitorous, cowardly body refuses to cooperate. She had left things with Azula on such bad terms. She hadn't even said goodbye. Ozai had declared her a traitor in exile. If she shows up in the capital, there is no guarantee that she will get a warm reception. If the things she's hearing are any indication, Azula is in a troubled mental state. Upon seeing the traitor mother who had killed her grandfather and abandoned her without a word, Azula could easily order her arrested, or worse.  
  
 _Get up_ , Kimiko tells herself anyway, but she can't. She won't. Vaguely, she realizes that she's crying. How is she supposed to look her daughter in the eye, knowing that she left her alone with the likes of Ozai and those cold, uncaring bitches, Li and Lo? She can apologize, but Azula won't accept. She knows she won't.   
  
Kimiko cries until there are no tears left in her. Finally, she drags herself to her desk, collapsing on the seat. She can barely even face her own reflection in the mirror. She pulls her drawer open and rifles through the old newspapers and pulls out the one that had commemorated Fire Lord Azula's ascension to the throne. Azula's royal portrait takes up most of the front page, and Kimiko strokes the black-and-white ink, wishing it was Azula's face she was touching. The daughter she hasn't seen in nearly ten years has grown into a beautiful young woman. The sharp, cold fierceness in her demeanor is all Ozai, though - a heartbreaking resemblance.   
  
Kimiko closes her eyes and bows her head. _Please_ , she prays. Azula needs somebody, now more than ever. She's too much of a coward to do what she must, but Azula has someone else. Someone who is strong and good and brave, far more brave than Kimiko is.  
  
 _Zuko_ , she thinks, reaching out to her lost son, with every fiber of her being. _Please. Your sister needs you._  
  
-  
  



	26. Part 26

The first sign that something is wrong comes when she and Zuko walk back to the campsite, carrying a couple of fresh hawk-squirrels for the night's dinner, and nobody reacts. Nobody says a word. They're just sitting around the fire and Suki, Katara, and Aang stare, while Toph and Sokka don't make eye contact. Ty Lee just looks blankly into the fire.  
  
Mai takes it in in an instant. "Who died?" she asks flatly, not quite joking. As long as it's not Zuko's uncle, and not…not Azula. That's all that matters to her.   
  
"No one," Suki says uneasily. She nudges Sokka, and he holds up a tightly rolled sheet of parchment. "A report just came in from the Fire Nation capital."  
  
Beside her, she feels Zuko brace himself. His face shutters, and he sets the hawk-squirrels down with forced calm. "What is it?"  
  
For a couple of seconds, there's just uncomfortable silence that nobody seems to want to break. Finally, Toph heaves a massive sigh. "I guess I'll do it," she says. "You guys are such wimps. Congratulations, Sparky. You're going to be an uncle."  
  
Mai freezes, convinced she had misheard - but suddenly, everyone's expression makes sense, and Ty Lee--  
  
Zuko clutches his hair, looking absolutely demented. It would be amusing, under any other circumstances. "What? _What_?"   
  
"Uh, yeah," Aang says sheepishly. "That was our reaction too."  
  
"I don't believe it," Zuko snaps. "Give me that."  
  
Sokka tosses the parchment over to him, and Mai leans over Zuko's shoulder as she reads, easily deciphering the code that they've all learned by heart. There's a newspaper clipping taped to the inside, an official announcement from the palace that the Fire Lord and Prince Chan Li are expecting an heir to the throne in six months' time.   
  
"Oh, spirits," Zuko groans, sinking down into a sitting position, and putting his head on his arms. He looks so overwhelmed that Mai would be worried for him if it weren't for Ty Lee. She keeps trying to make eye contact with her, but Ty Lee won't look away from the fire.   
  
"This is exactly what we didn't want to happen," Katara says. The campfire casts shadows on her face.   
  
"Yes, thank you for stating the obvious," Mai retorts. Normally, she gets along quite well with Katara, but now is not the time for her sanctimoniousness. "It's happened. Now we need to deal with it." She normally isn't one to be sensitive, but just saying the words makes her stomach knot up. _Deal with it._ Azula herself, or the unborn heir she carries inside her?  
  
"Mai's right," Sokka cuts in, and Mai notices that he's strangely not-fidgety, but pale and tense. "And actually, this could kind of work to our advantage. Zuko, there's no better time to challenge her to an Agni Kai."  
  
Ty Lee sits up straight, her eyes blazing, and Zuko looks at him sharply. "What?"  
  
"It makes perfect sense," Sokka says softly, almost apologetically. "Look, there's a precedent. Azula sent Chan Li out to fight on her behalf last year when he executed the guy who masterminded the rebellion. Now that Azula's pregnant, Chan Li will definitely take her place in any Agni Kai that you challenge her to. All our reports have said that he's a mediocre firebender. You'd wipe the floor with him in two minutes."   
  
Toph scratches her chin. "Smart," she says. "But…"  
  
Zuko shakes his head. "It won't work," he says tersely. "I'm sure Azula knows her husband is a weak firebender. She would never let him take her place in such a high-stakes Agni Kai. Never."  
  
"That still works to our advantage," Katara points out quickly. "I'm sure that even Azula won't be at full fighting form when pregnant. There are so many changes that take place in the body. Wait a couple of months, until she's further along, and challenge her then. You'll have the upper hand in combat."   
  
Throwing caution to the wind, Mai moves to Ty Lee's side and places a restraining hand on her friend's shoulder. Zuko stares around the group, aghast, and Aang can't quite meet his eyes. "Are you _mad_?" he demands, his voice cracking. "You want me to fight an Agni Kai with my pregnant sister?"  
  
"Zuko's right," Ty Lee says, and there's no trace of her usual bright playfulness. For the second time in all the years Mai has known her, Ty Lee's voice is pure iron. "This is wrong. You all know it's wrong."   
  
"No," Katara says, obviously struggling to keep her temper under control. "What's _wrong_ is the fact that Azula almost killed Aang. Azula almost killed all of us _more_ than once, including you and Mai, her so-called best friends, and Zuko."  
  
Ty Lee doesn't falter. "That doesn't mean that we have to--"  
  
Katara scoffs, interrupting her. "Yeah, of course _you_ would defend her."  
  
Ty Lee stiffens. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
For a couple of seconds, there's nothing but unbearably heavy, tense silence around the campfire. "Katara," Suki says, her voice barely audible.  
  
And at the soft word, Katara turns away sharply. "Nothing," she says resentfully. "You and Mai were her friends. Of course you would defend her."   
  
Mai finally exhales shallowly. Ty Lee keeps staring at Katara, hurt and anger written all over her face, and Mai feels her heart break a little.   
  
"Anyway," Sokka says wildly, in a transparent attempt to break the tension. "What we were talking about before - crowning Zuko Fire Lord is the only way we can bring peace to the world and end this war once and for all. How long do you think it's going to be before Azula takes back the areas of the Earth Kingdom we liberated? And hunts down our armies? Now we know why she's been distracted for the past few months, but when that's over…"  
  
Zuko's mouth opens and closes wordlessly. "You're right," he says, and Mai looks at him so quickly she hurts her neck. Her head aches, and for once, she doesn't know what to think, and she still can't even wrap her mind around the idea of Azula having a baby.   
  
"But I'm not," Zuko says, and then he stops, looking torn. "I'm not going to challenge her like this. Listen to me," he says fiercely, forestalling the interruptions already coming to Toph, Sokka, and Katara's lips. "Like you said, Azula's not going to be at fighting form. If she's pregnant, her center of gravity is going to be off. Her speed is going to be affected. She'll be unsteady. One mistake could - if I shoot lightning at her, or redirect it back to her, and her reaction time isn't fast enough, I could…"  
  
"Zuko," Aang says quietly, looking pained, looking like he wants to apologize for even putting his friend in this situation.  
  
"I could kill her," Zuko says, and Ty Lee flinches. "Or I could hurt her unborn child. I'm not going to do that. I'm not going to do that to the only family I have left, aside from Uncle. I'm sorry. I really am."   
  
"Don't apologize," Aang says at once. "It was unfair of us to ask."  
  
Nobody else looks as happy, except for Suki, who nods in understanding. "Sokka," Zuko says. "Katara. You guys told me that in the Water Tribe, family means more than anything else."  
  
"Yeah," Sokka acknowledges reluctantly. "It's just that in the Water Tribe, our families aren't as dysfunctional."  
  
"You would make the same choice if you were in my shoes," Zuko says quietly.  
  
Sokka looks at Katara out of the corner of his eye, and after a few moments, he nods wordlessly.  
  
Katara crosses her arms. "This is all very well and good, but what are we going to do now?" she asks.   
  
"We should keep the liberation efforts going strong," Suki says. "Azula has ordered more military force directed to the remaining Fire Nation-controlled territories, so we'll have a lot of work on our hands."  
  
Zuko nods. "And once the baby is born and Azula has recuperated enough to fight, we'll make our way to the Fire Nation capital."  
  
Sokka looks at him worriedly. "Are you sure about this?" he asks. "I mean…at the end of the day, yes, we need you to win the Agni Kai for the throne, but we're also worried about you, Zuko. Are you sure you want to take the risk of facing Azula at her full strength?"  
  
"I do," Zuko says, inclining his head, without hesitation. "It's the honorable thing to do."  
  
-  
  
After a dinner in which Sokka and Aang wholeheartedly devote themselves to making sure the conversation stays light and fun, Mai, Ty Lee, and Zuko take a walk.  
  
"You did the right thing," Mai says, breaking the silence that had fallen over them, all three of them lost in their own thoughts.  
  
"Thanks," Zuko replies, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know everyone else thinks it's going to come back and bite me, but I don't think so. I can't explain why."   
  
Ty Lee had been walking ahead, but she stops and turns to face them. "You know," she says. "You're going to be a good Fire Lord. And today, you were a good brother."  
  
Zuko blinks, taken aback. "Thanks," he says again. "I…I hope so."  
  
"I just hope Azula is going to be okay," Ty Lee says with feeling, the anxious look back in her eyes. "I can't stop thinking about it."   
  
Mai puts a hand on her shoulder. "She'll be fine," she assures her, trying her best to be comforting. "Nobody dies in childbirth anymore."   
  
"And the royal physician is really good," Zuko jumps in. "She'll get the best care in the world. Don't worry."   
  
For the first time in hours, a tiny smile touches the corner of Ty Lee's lips. "I wonder if it's going to be a boy or a girl," she says. "Do you think Azula is happy? I really, really hope she is."   
  
Zuko shudders. "I don't know. It's too weird to think about. I just hope…" He falters. "I hope that Azula will be more like our mother than like Ozai."  
  
"I wouldn't worry about that, if I were you," Mai says, and she's surprised to realize she means it. Azula knows quite intimately what it's like to have a parent view her as disposable; as merely a tool for their own gain. She won't put her own child through what she had experienced at Ozai's hands.  
  
Ty Lee nods. "Azula takes care of her own," she says, with quiet certainty.   
  
"As long as they don't betray her," Zuko replies darkly.    
  
Mai rolls her eyes. "How is a baby going to betray her? By spitting up on her?"  
  
Ty Lee's lips twitch. "Azula would exile the baby to its crib."  
  
Mai has to laugh at the mental image, and Zuko and Ty Lee dissolve into giggles as well. When they finally regain their composure, Zuko takes a deep breath, looking up at the stars above them. "I hope she'll be okay too," he says seriously.   
  
Mai takes his hand in hers, and places her other hand on Ty Lee's shoulder. Optimism is not her forte, but she has to do it for them. "Everything is going to be all right," she says. "I know it will."  
  
-  
  



	27. Part 27

They stay up late that night talking, curled up close to one another on the sofa.   
  
"Can I tell anyone?" Chan Li asks cautiously, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of her hands. "I'm sure my parents would want to know, and I'd like to tell Renshu and Xue."  
  
"Just them," Azula says, with some reluctance. "And make sure that nobody breathes a word to anyone, under pain of severe punishment," she adds, narrowing her eyes. "I'm only two months along, and Mingyu said we shouldn't make a formal announcement for another month and a half at least."   
  
"…All right," Chan Li agrees, obviously not knowing why.  
  
Involuntarily, Azula glances down at her still-flat stomach. "Apparently the risk of miscarriage is high until the fourteen-week mark," she explains. "If…it makes it until then, it should be safe."  
  
Chan Li draws in a sharp breath and looks like she had hit him. "Miscarriage," he says, frown lines appearing on his forehead and around his eyes, and he holds her hands tighter. "Renshu and Xue lost their first that way."   
  
"It seems that it's quite common, especially in the early stages." Azula hesitates, before placing a protective hand on her stomach. It hadn't been wanted, and she still isn't sure how she feels about it, but the thought of her body turning traitor on her and stifling the tiny life growing inside it is not pleasant. And from what Mingyu had said, there's the risk that it might spontaneously just…die.   
  
"Don't worry," Chan Li says, obviously trying to be reassuring, even though anxiety is written all over him. He reaches out and touches her face, cupping it with one hand. "You're so strong, and I've always been healthy too. Nothing is going to happen."  
  
Azula leans into the touch. "How do you feel?" she asks, echoing the question he had asked her earlier.  
  
His smile is hesitant at first, but genuine. "Aside from the worry, I'm excited," he says, taking her hand in his and brushing a light kiss to it. "The timing is good, I think. My friends are starting to have children now as well, so ours will have lots of other little ones to play with. It makes me remember when Chan was born, and how I used to take care of him whenever I was home on breaks. I always thought him being born was the best thing that ever happened to me, and now…"   
  
"I've heard about your misadventures in babysitting your brother," Azula says, shuddering. It's truly a miracle that Chan survived his older brother's care. "You can't take our child tiger-spider tipping and cow-snake riding, Chan Li. This is the future Fire Lord."    
  
He grins at the memory - or in anticipation, which is worrying. "Why not? Nobody has to know."  
  
"You are ridiculous."  
  
Unfazed, Chan Li hugs her. "We're going to be a family," he says softly, holding her close, obviously testing the word in his mouth.  
  
He's thinking of his brother - and probably resolving to be a warm and loving parent, unlike his own - and suddenly she's thinking of Ozai, Zuko, her grandfather, her mother, and she's back inside the throne room, feeling and hearing cold looks and harsh words, and fear--  
  
It's an effort to keep from freezing up, to keep herself from shivering.   
  
"Are your parents going to hint at using your family name when we tell them?" Azula asks, trying as hard as she can to banish the thoughts from her mind. Go, she thinks fiercely, but the image of her father, smirking, hateful, lingers.    
  
Chan Li rubs her back. "Of course they'll want yet another Chan, if it's a boy," he says wryly. "But it's your decision."  
  
"I expect your help," Azula says, forcing the thoughts away, trying to hide how unsettled she suddenly feels.   
  
"I have books, and I'm sure we can get some ideas from those. Here, let me bring a few right now…"   
  
-  
  
Getting through the next several days is a struggle, and Azula refuses to reveal it, even to Chan Li. It makes her afraid. If coping when being just two months along is this difficult, then what will things be like at five months, six, seven?   
  
Her rigorous training schedule, rivaling even that of students at the Fire Nation military academies, had started at seven years of age. She can withstand extreme physical strain without batting an eyelash. In the course of her training, she's broken bones and torn muscles, and coped with the pain with ease. Physically, she's tougher than Chan Li, who's a foot taller than her and outweighs her by at least forty pounds of solid muscle.  
  
And yet she's struggling to deal with this. But she has to.   
  
She's nauseous all the time, and her breasts keep aching and aching, and fits of dizziness hit several times a day at the most unpredictable times. The worst thing is the headaches and the fatigue. All Azula wants to do is sleep during the day because she can't sleep much at night because of having to go to the bathroom all the time. But she can't sleep during the day because she still has a country to run.  
  
 _It's not fair_ , Azula thinks, as she stares down at the proposal for new safety procedures during monsoon season that she's writing. Or supposed to be writing, at least. That shows how much she's slipping. Life isn't fair. She shouldn't be complaining about such things like a whiny little child. Normally, it's the royal consort that deals with the physical strain of bearing the Fire Nation an heir and a spare, leaving the Fire Lord free to cope with the mental burden of governing the world's most powerful nation. In the rare occasions throughout history where the Fire Lord has been a woman, it has fallen on her to do both.   
  
There have only been three before her. Zhaohui, Zhenya, and Zongying. Azula has never thought much about them, as they were hundreds of years before her time, but she pauses now in silent recognition. If they could do it, then she must as well. Still, briefly, she wonders if any of them had borne their heirs at sixteen.  
  
The sound of the door opening and shutting jolts her out of her reverie, and Azula looks up to see Chan Li making his way into the study, carrying a tall stack of large books in his arms. "Sorry I'm late," he says, unloading the books on the table with a sigh. "I got caught up in some research."   
  
Azula tilts her head to the side, vaguely intrigued. It's rare for him to read anything except fiction, and the intimidatingly thick tomes on the table don't look like his usual novels. "That's all right," she replies. "I didn't even notice. I've been working on this proposal."  
  
Rao wakes up from his dog bed in the corner and goes barreling over to the table then, barking happily and launching himself at Chan Li with such force that he almost knocks him off his feet. Azula cringes, but Chan Li laughs, grabbing the dog's front paws and doing a little dance with him. "I'm going to take him out for a walk," he says. "Do you want to come?"  
  
"You go ahead. I need to finish this."   
  
The two of them leave, and Azula writes another paragraph mandating a change in construction materials in coastal areas before she looks at the books again, her curiosity piqued. She's never known her husband to research anything that's not art-related.  
  
She sets the almost-completed proposal aside and rises to look at the books, surveying them with mingled confusion and alarm. _How To Be The Friend Your Child Needs. How To Talk To Your Children. Parenting With Love and Logic. The New Fire Nation Father_. Azula opens that one cautiously, scanning the table of contents. _The Dangers of Excessive Preoccupation With Honor_ is an entire section, more than a hundred pages long. And finally, an especially thick volume bookmarked in several places, called _What To Expect When You're Expecting: Wisdom for Expectant Mothers._  
  
Azula presses her fingertips to her temples, and she isn't sure whether to roll her eyes in exasperation or be amused or touched. Stupidly, tears prick the back of her eyes at the thought of Chan Li reading parenting books and taking notes. It's not something that men in the Fire Nation do. Normally, fathers' involvement in their children's lives is limited, especially among the upper classes.   
  
_At least he cares_ , she thinks suddenly, viciously. She doubts that Ozai had ever spared one moment, one single _thought_ , about how to be a good father. Chan Li cares enough to try, even if he has chosen a strangely New Age, liberal selection of books. She wouldn't be surprised if there is discussion about _auras_ and _energies_ in more than a few of these.   
  
Azula hesitates and then picks the first book up, the one about wisdom for expectant mothers. She sinks onto the sofa with it and flips through the pages, scanning the hundreds of mundane details about the physical changes associated with pregnancy, the minutia of how the infant inside her will develop, all the things she must and must not do to ensure that the infant is healthy, and so on and so forth. Honestly, she doesn't know how women read these books from cover to cover without falling into some kind of comatose state.   
  
She's passed more than a hundred pages before she stops, before a section finally draws her attention for more than a couple of seconds. _Pregnancy And The Emotionally Troubled Woman._   
  
Azula doesn't know why she reads it. It's not applicable to her. _Don't_ , she orders herself, staring at the title of the section. Is that what you are? _"Emotionally troubled"?_ It's just a discreet way of saying crazy, insane, unbalanced.  
  
The denial doesn't work. It _is_ applicable to her. That _is_ what she is, not entirely right in the head. The bad periods and the dark thoughts and the frightening moods come and go, but it's the truth. Everybody knows it, and ever since her father's execution, everybody has said it, either publicly or privately. Even Chan Li knows it, no matter how gently he pats her hand and tells her that she's just stressed and going through a difficult time.  
  
The book says that women with histories of psychiatric illness are vulnerable to worsened mental states during pregnancy. To severe anxiety, fearfulness, depression, delusions, and Azula's heartbeat quickens. No. She's just trying to move past all of that. The nightmares that had made her physically ill and the intrusive, too-real visions that had struck during her waking hours and left her crippled with unease for the rest of the day. All the unpleasantness that had happened after Ozai can't happen again now that she's getting back on her feet, it can't. She can't allow it.   
  
Her gaze jumps around the page, taking the words in. She finally stares at the last several sentences, about how her energies and moods can affect the infant as it grows inside her, and how troubled mothers must take care to maintain a calm mental state at all times in order to avoid ruining the infant's health. Avoid making it so that it's prone to the same unhealthy disposition that the mother has.   
  
A surge of nausea hits her, so powerful that she doubles over, and Azula bites her tongue to distract herself. It takes several minutes for the nausea to subside. When it does, she slams the book shut and tosses it aside, her hands shaking with the urge to burn it until it's nothing more than a pile of ash. The shaking spreads to the rest of her body, and Azula buries her head in her hands. The lurking fear that she's suppressed since the night she had learned about her pregnancy is back, and everything feels dark. The fear says things to her in a voice that sounds like Ozai's, and she doesn't want to hear the words.   
  
Stop, she orders herself, over and over again, until the tightness in her chest eases enough for her to breathe properly. Azula glares at the book with undisguised hatred and debates ripping out that section before Chan Li reads it, so that he isn't sickened with anxiety over the fact that he's breeding with someone who is mentally unstable.   
  
Azula takes a few deep breaths, until a sense of fragile calm settles over her. The book is wrong. She will maintain control and maintain her health. She will have a perfectly normal baby who will inherit everything that is exceptional about her and none of what is broken and wrong.   
  
-  
  
In the weeks that follow, she tries to focus on the good. And there is good, like the way Chan Li asks to touch her stomach when he holds her at night to see whether he can feel the baby growing. "I know you won't start to show for a while," he says. "But still." Or, "I know that babies don't start to kick until the fourth or fifth month, but it could be early if it's a strong baby, right? I wouldn't be surprised."  
  
And two days after they have dinner with his parents to break the news, Chan Li comes back from work carrying a large bag and looking abashed. "They went shopping," is all he says, before upending the bag on the bed. An explosion of silk baby suit jackets and pants in a hundred different colors - embroidered in gold and silver thread with dragons, flowers, birds, vines, lion-turtles - comes cascading out, and they take one look at each other and dissolve into laughter.   
  
After Chan Li goes to walk the dog, Azula touches the silk suits with tentative fingers. For the first time, she tries to imagine the baby that will wear them.  
  
-  
  
Nights have never been easy for her, not since Mai and Ty Lee turned traitor and everything fell apart. Having Chan Li around has helped quite a bit, but things take a sharp turn for the worse after she looks at the infant clothing and thinks about the baby properly for the first time.  
  
The problem is that she's not getting enough sleep. Azula wakes more often to go to the bathroom than she ever has before, and falling back asleep is difficult. She lies in bed in the dark, staring at the ceiling, trying to shut her thoughts off or redirect them to matters of state. At times like this, she thinks of the future too much, of what the baby might be like when it grows up and isn't a mute, harmless little thing that can be carried around any longer. It would be good if it takes after Chan Li, she thinks. Sometimes she has horrible visions where she closes her eyes and imagines herself looking at her child and seeing Ozai's face looking back at her. It makes her shudder and break out in a sweat.    
  
Yes, it would be good if the child takes after Chan Li. Chan Li is good, solid, and loyal, not--  
  
 _Not a snake like you are_ , Ozai's voice says to her, and Azula goes rigid.   
  
_Go_ , she thinks. _Leave. You have no power over me. I killed you and I had your body dumped into the ocean. You're nothing now._  
  
 _It would be the sweetest irony if your child betrays you in the same way you betrayed me. Continuing you and your brother's shameful legacy._   
  
Azula grits her teeth to keep from screaming and puts her hands over the covers to keep herself from digging her fingernails through her hair until they scratch her scalp and make it hurt. _No, no_ , she thinks. _You were the one that betrayed us. You were the one that wronged us._  
  
She curls close to Chan Li and presses her forehead against his back, shutting her eyes tight and trying with every bit of effort she has in her to clear her mind.   
  
-  
  
That is how the haunting begins.  
  
Azula feels ill at ease in the morning and the feeling of unease doesn't lift. Ozai's words stick with her. Worse, the terrifying vision of looking at her child one day and seeing Ozai reborn and staring back at her doesn't let her be. She's eating lunch one afternoon and it occurs to her that she could die in childbirth, and she rushes to the bathroom and vomits.   
  
_Cursed is the kinslayer_ , everyone had said after she had executed Ozai. Azula has the sick feeling that the curse is creeping in, now that she is more vulnerable than she has ever been. She's hyper-conscious of her body, of every vague twinge in her stomach, in a way she's never been before. Her list of fears is considerable. She could miscarry, she could die in childbirth, she could have an untrustworthy child who is Ozai reborn. Right now, the most immediate fear is that of miscarriage.   
  
One evening, she's back in her rooms and walking from the study to the bedroom to fetch a proposal she had been working on, when she feels a cramp.   
  
Azula freezes. She leans against the doorway, completely and utterly paralyzed with fear, waiting for another one, too afraid to move, feeling sicker and sicker with every breath she takes. She would call for Chan Li, but he's visiting his parents.   
  
The dog comes to her, looking up at her with its big brown eyes. It leans against her as if offering support. Carefully, Azula puts her hand on its head and walks very slowly to the bathroom.   
  
There's no blood. She sits on the edge of the bathtub for several minutes, and there isn't another cramp. She makes her way back to the study and sits down on the sofa and cries.  
  
Chan Li finds her like that when he comes home ten minutes later, and he nearly trips over the table and then the dog in his haste to make it to her. "What's wrong?" he asks, dropping to his knees in front of her and taking her hands. "Did something happen?"  
  
"I had a cramp," Azula manages, wiping her eyes. "I checked, and there was nothing wrong, but…"  
  
He sits down beside her and hugs her tight. "Oh, Azula," he says, in a way that nobody besides Ty Lee has ever done. "It's all right. It happens sometimes. It's just your…you know, your womb…expanding. I remember that the same thing happened to my mother often, when she was pregnant with Chan."  
  
Azula presses her lips together tightly and nods, trying to regain her composure after the unseemly bout of weeping. "Of course. There was no reason for me to react that way."  
  
"Yes, there was." Chan Li takes her hand, holding it between both of his own. "I would have been scared too."  
  
Azula looks down at their hands. "You don't know," she says, unable to speak the rest of her sentence.  
  
"I don't," he agrees. "I know it must be hard for you. But I want to help you as much as I can."  
  
Azula looks at him, at the earnest expression on his face, the worry and sincerity. She wonders what he would think of her if he knew everything, about how Ozai…about the thoughts that she's been having and the fears and the reason she's so afraid. She doesn't even know why she cares what Chan Li would think of her, but she does. She doesn't want him to be afraid that their child is going to turn out like Ozai, or like her, or that she or the baby might not even live, if Ozai and the curse have anything to do with it.   
  
Wordlessly, Azula leans against him, resting her head against his shoulder.   
  
-  
  
The anxiety she constantly fights to keep at bay during her waking hours bleeds into the night. Nightmare after nightmare. Azula dreams of dying, or of losing the baby, of having a painful miscarriage in the throne room where she had brought lightning to her fingertips and killed her father. Being in the throne room is difficult after that. She has a particularly terrible dream where Chan Li gets sick and dies suddenly, leaving her pregnant and alone, and Azula wakes up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, gasping for breath.   
  
The fear makes her sick, worsening her nausea and fatigue and the constant, inexplicable soreness in her bones and muscles. She's never been afraid like this before. She can't even vent her feelings through firebending, as she always has. The worst of Mingyu's seemingly endless list of decrees had been that she should avoid all but the easiest firebending forms.   
  
It's easier not to sleep. Azula lies down at night, just so that Chan Li won't fuss at her like a mother turtleduck, but after she wakes to go to the bathroom, she doesn't return to bed. She just sits in the study with her head in her hands.   
  
She has to love the child when it is born to ensure that it loves her in return and feels a strong sense of loyalty to her. The only person she's really loved is Ty Lee, and that love obviously hadn't been good or strong enough, because Ty Lee had still turned against her. Azula can't shake the fear of being a bad parent, a cold one, like Ozai had been to her and to Zuko. Chan Li's parents had been remote and never very affectionate to him as a child, but he'd had good, kind nursemaids, so he at least has something to model himself after. She has nothing. Well, she has her mother's relationship with Zuko, but she prefers not to think about that. She prefers not to think about her mother at all.   
  
"Azula?"  
  
She turns sharply, and her shoulders relax a little when she sees it's just Chan Li, sleep-ruffled and drowsy. "I couldn't sleep," she says. "Don't worry, it's nothing. You should go back to bed."  
  
He makes his way to her regardless, and sits beside her. She can feel his eyes on her, lingering on the dark circles underneath her eyes that carefully applied powder hides during the day, and she can feel him take a deep breath, obviously trying to summon up some courage.  
  
"I don't ask much of you," Chan Li says carefully.   
  
Azula inclines her head. "I know. And I'm grateful for it."   
  
"I want you to talk to me," he says, in a rush. "I know that you're having a hard time, and I want you to tell me what's on your mind so that I can try to help you. It's only right."  
  
Azula glances up at him, at the pained look on his face. She reaches out, in a rare tender gesture, and presses her palm to his cheek for a second. "There's nothing you can do," she says, around the knot in her chest.   
  
"Maybe not. But I - I at least want to listen."   
  
His compassion hurts her. She's not used to it. Azula takes a deep breath, and her chest aches. She wants to confess it, all the thoughts that have been trapped inside her and driving her mad for the past month and a half, but--  
  
"You'll think I'm crazy," she says flatly. "Or - more unhinged than you already think I am, at least. It happens to everyone who's close to me, and then they're afraid of me, and then they come to hate me. My mother, my friends…"   
  
Chan Li touches her shoulder, soft and tentative. "Azula," he says, after a long time. "I couldn't hate you. I--" He hesitates, and then seems to change his mind about something. "The only thing I feel for you is compassion."   
  
It's too hard to keep it in anymore. Azula closes her eyes, willing herself not to cry. "He's haunting me," she says. "Ozai. I can feel it, ever since Mingyu told me I was pregnant. Cursed is the kinslayer, remember?"   
  
Chan Li shudders. "Don't say that."  
  
It all spills out then, fast and with less coherence than she would have liked, about the disturbing, vivid nightmares and the ever-present sense of unease and feeling threatened and afraid, the visions of seeing Ozai reborn in her child, and even the voices. Azula rakes her fingers through her loose hair as she talks and leans forward, her elbows braced on her knees, unable to look Chan Li in the eyes. She's vaguely conscious of the fact that she's shaking, and he takes the velvet throw from the back of the sofa and wraps it around her.  
  
"You think it's Ozai's shade that's driving you to feel this way," he says softly. "Some kind of malevolent energy, of sorts?"  
  
Azula nods wordlessly, not trusting herself to speak through the tightness in her throat.   
  
Chan Li rubs her back, obviously deep in thought. "Light drives out darkness," he says, finally.  
  
She glances up at him, confused. It's the kind of bizarre non sequitur her uncle would come up with. "What?"   
  
"Light drives out darkness, and love overpowers hate," Chan Li repeats, taking her hands. "I know that you're afraid, but you have to think that - that there's good energy out there that's protecting you and wants you to be healthy and safe."   
  
Azula eyes him doubtfully. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Me, obviously," he says, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "And your brother, and your friends."   
  
Azula stares, completely taken aback. "You must be mistaken," she says, at last. "I don't doubt that you care about me, but Zuko, Mai, Ty Lee--" their names are bitter in her mouth. "They must despise me. I'm sure they wish I would die in childbirth. It would make everything so much easier for them."   
  
"No," Chan Li says, sounding utterly sure of himself in a way that he very rarely does. It's perhaps only the third time in their entire marriage that he has openly disagreed with her. "No, I don't think they do."   
  
Azula just looks at him, a little rattled by the certainty in his voice. She's lost for words, but now that she thinks about it, there is something strangely comforting about what he had said.  
  
Chan Li leans down and kisses her on the forehead. "You're not alone," he says quietly. "You do have people who care about you very much and want the best for you. I think that outweighs any lingering influence of one despicable, miserable human being."  
  
Azula swallows over her dry throat, feeling quite overwhelmed all of a sudden. She wraps her arms around him, pulling him close and resting her warm forehead against his neck.   
  
"And the baby is not going to be like Ozai," Chan Li says firmly, hugging her. "Don't worry. We'll make sure of that. We're going to be a different kind of family than the ones that both you and I grew up with. Our child is going to be strong and brilliant like you, and--"  
  
"Yes," Azula agrees, her voice a little muffled. "And kind and good like you."  
  
He smiles, surprised by the compliment, and smooths her hair back from her forehead.  
  
-  
  
Chan Li accompanies her to her next appointment to the healer. He holds her hand as she allows Mingyu to examine her.  
  
"Well?" Azula demands, as soon as the healer pulls away. "What's happening?"  
  
Mingyu bows deeply. "Congratulations, Fire Lord. I am happy to report that the baby is healthy and has a strong heartbeat."   
  
"Does that mean it's safe?" Azula asks, at once. "Last time, you mentioned…"  
  
Mingyu nods. "Close to ninety-five percent of miscarriages occur in the first trimester, and you've successfully reached your second trimester without incident, which means--"  
  
Chan Li punches the air and cheers like he's at a kuai ball match, and the old healer looks like she's going to have a heart attack. Azula instinctively touches her stomach, and for the first time in weeks, she smiles.  
  
-  
  
  



	28. Part 28

As soon as they leave the healer's office, Chan Li holds her hand tightly, and Azula can almost see the stars in his eyes. "Now that we know, we can start getting the nursery ready," he says, in a rush. "Where is the royal nursery in the palace, anyway? Or shall we keep the baby in our rooms? It's supposed to foster attachment, and we can order a crib."  
  
Azula eyes him, torn between feeling overwhelmed and amused. "That can wait," she says. "There are more immediate concerns that must be dealt with first."  
  
When they return to their rooms, she summons the captain of her guard for a meeting. Azula perches on the lush suede sofa in the sitting room and waits for Captain Kang, while Chan Li stands guard.  
  
Captain Kang arrives promptly, as usual. He bows deeply to her and Chan Li in greeting, and then kneels in front of her. "Fire Lord," he says, his gaze respectfully downcast. "I hope that everything is all right."  
  
Azula looks at his bald spot; at the sparse, silvering hair around it. He has been the captain of her guard for as long as she can remember. He had begun service to the royal family when her mother had been pregnant with Zuko, and when she was born, Captain Kang had been assigned to watch over her instead. He had stood guard over her crib on the first night of her life. "Quite," she says. "Congratulations. Outside of the healer and Prince Chan Li's parents, you are the first to hear the news."  
  
Captain Kang looks up at her cautiously. "The news?"  
  
She inclines her head, resting a hand on her stomach. "The Fire Nation can expect an heir to the throne in approximately six months' time."  
  
The captain blinks, and then he gives her one of his rare smiles, a smile she had last seen at her coronation, and bows his head. "Congratulations, Fire Lord," he says, with feeling. He nods a bit grudgingly in Chan Li's direction as well, and Azula feels a faint stirring of amusement. Her guards have never been overly fond of Chan Li, perhaps because of the fifteen years that separate them.   
  
"But, if you'll pardon my asking, why did you wait so long to inform me?" Kang asks, a frown of consternation creasing his brow. "This means that there have been numerous security lapses that have taken place over these past three months. You've been walking the hallways of the palace with only two guards, and…"   
  
"I didn't want to make an announcement until I was certain the pregnancy was viable." It takes an effort to keep herself from rolling her eyes. "And I am expecting," Azula adds sharply. "I am not a defenseless invalid. In any case, I called you here to discuss the matter of the heir's guard when it is born, not my own."   
  
"Yes, Fire Lord, but precautions must be taken, especially after the palace makes the formal announcement," Kang insists. "This is a matter of utmost seriousness. We must take extra care, as you are both the Fire Lord and the expectant mother of the future heir. The royal guard has not faced a situation like this in hundreds of years - but you shouldn't worry," he adds hurriedly. "I have been preparing."    
  
The look in his eyes makes it clear that he won't back down, and from the door, Chan Li clears his throat. "I agree with Captain Kang," he says.  
  
Azula glares at him. _Traitor_ , she thinks. "Very well," she says. "What do you have in mind?"  
  
-  
  
In the end, they treat her like a dog on a very short lead. Even Chan Li's dog has more freedom than she does.   
  
She is prohibited from leaving the palace for any reason, except to enter the courtyards - and the guards had been reluctant to allow even that. She has a full escort of guards with her every step she takes. Whenever possible, they direct her to routes that don't have stairs, and when stairs are unavoidable, they cluster tightly around her so that they can catch her if she falls - or prevent her from being pushed.   
  
Azula is ordered to stay away from windows and to refrain from sitting in her own balcony until the baby is born, just in case assassins somehow manage to access the palace roofs and target her with bow and poisoned arrow. In addition to the existing stringent security measures, every piece of food she puts into her mouth and every sip of water she takes is taste-tested for poison. The guards even invade her bathroom and put ugly mats all over the marble floors and the bathtub. _So you don't slip_ , Captain Kang says, while Azula presses her fingertips to her aching temples and longs to throw them all out. And she has never had any reason to doubt her servants' loyalty, but the guards take them all in for several rounds of questioning nevertheless, and they are pale and subdued for days after.   
  
The healer Mingyu seems to be in cohorts with her guards in the attempt to make her life as restrictive as possible. The list of things that she is ordered to avoid grows ever longer, expanding to drinking tea and eating chocolate, eating seafood, taking baths that are too hot, sleeping on her stomach or her back, and any form of exertion - which her guards seem to define as "walking too fast." Her body aches all the time, but apparently it's no longer safe for her to get back massages at the spa.   
  
"Their intentions are good," Chan Li says, trying to placate her after work one evening. "They're just trying to keep you safe."  
  
Azula touches a sore spot of acne on her jaw and frowns. This pregnancy is doing terrible things to her skin, and to add insult to injury, Mingyu had told her that mud masks were apparently unsafe and should be avoided. "They would lock me in this room until I give birth if they could," she says darkly. "My guards are overreacting. There is no real danger. The muttering of peasants carry no weight, after all."  
  
Chan Li pauses what he's doing, sorting through the pile of personal correspondence the servant had handed over to them, and Azula glances down at her paperwork and pretends she doesn't feel his pitying look. As the head of intelligence, ever since the formal announcement of her pregnancy, he's been keeping a close eye on spy reports from around the Fire Nation. The people of the nation have reacted in a predictable fashion. The popular belief is that the shocking lack of filial piety she has demonstrated in her life will be repaid when her baby is born dead or horribly deformed, or both. Ozai's revenge. _Cursed is the kinslayer._   
  
Poor Chan Li. He hadn't wanted to make those reports to her, but she had ordered him to. He could barely say the words and had stammered them out, looking like he was going to cry the whole time. But there haven't been any plots, and that is the most important thing. The commoners are talking - and many of the nobles, in the false privacy of their estates - but despite her guards' fears, nobody has schemed to push her down the stairs or try paying her servants to slip something into her food.   
  
_Or, if they have_ , Azula muses, feeling oddly detached, _they just haven't put it in writing._  
  
She distracts herself by finishing her revision to the tax code and then turns to Chan Li, still sorting through the correspondence. Ever since the announcement, letters of congratulation have been flooding in from all over the Fire Nation, as well as the Fire Nation-controlled seas and Earth Kingdom territories. They are all for him, from his old friends at the naval academy and the crew members of the ships he had commanded. Chan Li reads the letters and grins and unwraps the attached gifts of toys for the baby, and Azula feels a cold, uncharitable stab of jealousy every single time.   
  
She always wonders if Mai and Ty Lee have heard, wherever they are, wherever Zuko and the Avatar's band of traitors is hiding. She tries not to, but she wonders what Ty Lee, especially, thinks. If she's jealous; if the thought of her with Chan Li hurts. Azula hopes it does. This is all Ty Lee's fault for leaving her, anyway. If Ty Lee is sad about her marrying Chan Li and having a child with him, she has only herself to blame. She hopes the what-if's haunt Ty Lee as much as they haunt her.  
  
She's jolted out of the bitter thoughts when Chan Li holds a scroll out to her tentatively, like it's something diseased. She raises an eyebrow. "It's, um, Li and Lo again," he says. "Asking to come out of exile and return to the palace, because apparently you would benefit from their guidance now that you're expecting."  
  
"Give me that," Azula says, holding out her hand.   
  
He puts the scroll in her hand, and as soon as he's safely pulled back, she incinerates it. "The capital city will freeze over before I allow them near us," she tells him. "They are shameless loyalists to Ozai. I should have had them imprisoned in the Boiling Rock, but I took pity on them due to their advanced age."   
  
Chan Li looks at her, his gaze lingering on the frown lines on her forehead and the unhappy set of her mouth. He sets aside the correspondence then, and moves to sit beside her on the sofa. "Is something wrong?" he asks, a little awkwardly. "Is there anything I can do?"  
  
"Well," Azula replies shortly, setting her papers aside. "You could say that, considering that despite the fact that I feel tired and ill more often than not, I spend every day and a good part of every night working to rule a nation of ingrates who say terrible things about me and hope my child is born dead."   
  
Chan Li winces. "Please don't say that. And not everybody," he adds stubbornly. "I'm sure there are some people who are still loyal, and who speak of you with the respect you deserve."   
  
Azula sighs. "You may be right. I just…" She gestures at her stack of paperwork tiredly. "I lack the motivation to carry on at times."  
  
He puts a hand on her shoulder. "I wish I could help you," he says sincerely. "I would offer, but I know that I would lead the country to ruin within a week."  
  
Azula actually laughs, for the first time in a long time, and she leans in and presses a kiss to his cheek. "They would deserve it," she says, and though she is trying to joke, there is still a hard edge in her voice.   
  
Chan Li puts his arms around her. "People have short memories," he says, resting a hand against her aching back. "In five years, when the Fire Nation is prospering and our child is growing up strong and healthy, all of the…unpleasantness that happened last year will be forgotten."  
  
She can tell he's lying, but it was a lie born out of good intentions, and Azula leans against him. "I wanted them to worship me," she confesses, despite herself. She can barely hear her own voice over the beating of his heart and her own. "For all my life, I've wanted the people of the Fire Nation to adore me and admire me. To compose songs and plays of my victories, and build statues of me in their towns, and name their daughters in my honor. To make up for how everyone else…" She trails off, feeling the hair falling out of his topknot, brushing against her cheek. "But the only one who will love me is this infant, and they don't even want me to have that."  
  
She feels Chan Li take a deep breath, like he wants to say something. But he exhales without speaking, and just hugs her close.  
  
-  
  
Azula is sitting in the antechamber behind her throne room and eating lunch when it happens. It's an indescribable flutter in her stomach, and at first, she doesn't think much of it. It must be her body reacting to the food, as she hasn't eaten in hours. But it happens again, and she sets aside her chopsticks and frowns. It doesn't seem to be the pain she gets in her stomach when she's stressed or anxious, or the shivers that pass through her on the rare occasion that she feels nervous.   
  
The realization hits her with the next flutter and she stares down at her body in wide-eyed shock.  
  
She isn't sure why she does it, and why it can't wait for a few hours, but she's up on her feet in the next instant, striding to the door. Behind her, the guards exchange nonplussed looks and follow.  
  
-  
  
Azula knocks on the door of Chan Li's office herself, three short, sharp raps. His dog barks from inside the office and he answers almost immediately. He's clearly surprised to see her.   
  
"Everything is all right," she says at once, forestalling the question on his lips. "I just wanted to pay you a visit."  
  
He opens the door wide and lets her in, and when he shuts it behind her, Azula can see that he had been in the middle of lunch. The dog peers out from underneath the desk and wags its tail rapidly in greeting.  
  
"Have you eaten?" Chan Li asks, trying to hand her the chopsticks. "I have fried rice."   
  
Azula shakes her head, unsure of why she feels so awkward all of a sudden. They've been married for more than a year, but she's never been as conscious of sharing something so intimate with him as she is now. This ties them together in a way that's deeper than anything else they've ever done, and it's a little unsettling. "I just wanted to tell you," she says. "I think the baby moved."  
  
Chan Li blinks, and then comprehension dawns on his face. When he smiles, it's so bright that she feels her lips twitch upward as well. Without warning, he lifts her into his arms and twirls her around, and Azula would normally protest to this, but she can't bring herself to today. He tries to kiss her on the forehead, but misses in his excitement and ends up kissing her underneath the eye instead. "This is so exciting," he says, touching her cheek. "May  I…?"  
  
She nods, and he rests a gentle hand on her stomach. "I don't know that you'll even be able to feel it through all these layers," she warns him. "Besides, it's not moving right now."  
  
"Say something," Chan Li suggests. "Maybe that will help?"  
  
Azula raises an eyebrow. "I just did."    
  
He shakes his head. "My books said that babies can recognize the sound of their mother's voice in the womb. Maybe if you talk to it, it'll hear you and respond."  
  
This all sounds completely mad, but Azula decides to humor him nevertheless. She pauses, trying to decide what to say. Not that it can even hear her, anyway. "Hello, infant," she says at last, feeling completely ridiculous. "I hope that your current accommodations are suitable. I am doing what I can to ensure your comfort. I assure that you will have the most luxurious and well-appointed surroundings after your arrival in the palace, and--"  
  
She stops, startled, when the baby moves. Chan Li feels it too, and he exclaims in excitement. "It's true!" he almost yells. "It works! See, it recognizes you already!"  
  
"It could have been a coincidence," Azula says warily, but she rests a hand on her stomach and feels an unusual tightening in her throat. If what Chan Li is saying is true and the baby can recognize her voice… She wonders, briefly, what it sounds like to the tiny thing growing inside her, and if the infant likes it. If it's comforting.   
  
"I would like the baby to become accustomed to my voice as well," Chan Li says, looking wistful. "So that it - he - she - will already know me a little when it's born, like it knows you."  
  
Azula looks at him doubtfully. "You don't intend to talk to my stomach, do you?"  
  
That is exactly what he does. Chan Li holds her and launches into a full introduction of himself, describing all sorts of things he has apparently planned for the baby, including such highlights as, _I'm going to carry you everywhere on a sling on my back so that you can see the palace - it'll be fall by the time you're born, so the leaves on the trees will change color from green to red and orange - and you'll have an uncle named Chan, who is very funny and very excited to meet you, and you're going to have a really nice dog friend too._   
  
The half hour she takes for lunch turns into a full hour, and even then, Azula feels an uncharacteristic stirring of reluctance at returning to her duties for the afternoon.   
  
-  
  
That night, Azula is walking to the study with an armful legal cases that she must review, when she almost runs into Chan Li, walking in the opposite direction while holding one of his parenting books. He places a hand on her shoulder to steady her, and when she looks up at him, there's a soft, unreadable look on his face. He rubs her shoulder, his hand moving to the back of her neck, his thumb brushing against her cheek. And then Chan Li does something he rarely does, and leans down and kisses her.  
  
It's a gentle, warm touch, and after her surprise wears off, Azula reaches up and presses a hand to his cheek, standing on the tips of her toes to return the kiss. She feels the scrape of skin shaved hours ago against her palm. The only time she's conscious of how Chan Li towers over her and how broad his shoulders are is when they stand together like this.   
  
For a long time, she had been uncomfortable with these physical reminders of how different he is - all these hard, muscular angles - from the people she would prefer to kiss, but now there is just resignation. Though she's unsure whether _resignation_ is the right word. Chan Li doesn't have a woman's beauty or grace, but Azula supposes that he is attractive in his own way. She's caught herself admiring the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. She focuses on his personality as much as she can, his kindness and goodness, and that will have to be enough.   
  
And it hits her, in a way that it hadn't when they had shared a brief kiss at their wedding ceremony, that this is it. _I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one, for eternity,_ the Fire Sage officiating the ceremony had said. Azula had barely paid attention at the time, but…   
  
Barring any unfortunate accidents, she and Chan Li will grow old together. If her body isn't irreparably damaged by this birth, and if she doesn't die, she'll have at least one more child with him. An heir and a spare for the Fire Nation. They'll spend the rest of their lives together. Growing old, watching their children grow from infants to tall, strong adults. _I am hers from this day until the end of my days_ , Chan Li had said at their wedding, and she had echoed the words back to him.   
  
"Sorry," he mumbles now, as he pulls away from her, looking rather red in the face. His thumb lingers on her chin, as if he's reluctant to let go completely. "I, uh, I didn't mean to delay you from your work. I just - everything that happened earlier…"   
  
Azula clears her throat, trying to regain her composure. "You don't have to apologize," she says. "It was a pleasant diversion."   
  
Chan Li pats her on the shoulder and tries to look like he isn't glowing with pride at the compliment. "I always aim to please," he replies, straight-faced.   
  
"That is what makes you such a good consort." Azula deposits her thick stack of paperwork into his arms. "And you will be even better if you carry these for me."  
  
She takes his hand and they walk to the study together.   
  
-  
  
 _to be continued_  
  
-  
  
To everybody who is still reading this story: I really can't apologize enough for the unexpected two-month hiatus. I had a fairly bad mental health setback brought on by a few large and upsetting life changes. I'm trying to get back on my feet now, and have uploaded two more new chapters as well, besides this one.   
  
Thank you so much for your patience and understanding.   
  
(Fans of ASOIAF might recognize that Azula and Chan Li's wedding vows were adapted from parts of the vows spoken in ASOIAF, under the faith of the Seven.)   
  
  



	29. Part 29

The first time Azula had felt the baby move inside her marks a turning point. The weeks pass quickly from then on, turning into months. Her stomach grows to the point where the seamstresses have to make her several sets of special maternity Fire Lord robes. Her feet and ankles swell, making putting on her spike-toed boots nearly impossible.   
  
She has spent almost her entire life in the capital city and has always been able to cope with the heat with ease - unlike Chan Li, who is used to cool sea breezes. This summer is different. Every day, Azula feels almost unbearably hot underneath her three layers of heavy, ornate robes. Sweat moistens the skin of her back and between and underneath her always-aching breasts. The servants scrape her hair into an elaborate topknot every morning, as always, but strands sometimes come loose and stick to the back of her neck. The familiar high collar of her robes feels restricting, and the skin at her neck and collarbone is always warm and damp as well.  
  
To make matters worse, Azula feels ungainly and awkward, her center of gravity completely skewed. Nowadays, her usual brisk, confident stride feels more like the waddling of a mother turtleduck. And more often than not, she finds herself lingering in front of her mirrors in the morning and evening, hardly able to recognize her own reflection. Azula presses her hand against her growing stomach and against her face, the part of her that has changed the least over the past months, and surveys herself critically. Sometimes she feels that she looks more womanly and mature now, a true adult at last, and sometimes she looks at herself and just sees a fat child staring back at her. It sounds silly, but she hadn't realized how completely pregnancy would change her body. Chan Li claims she looks "radiant" and not at all like a cow, but he has been overly sentimental about this pregnancy from the start and is therefore not to be trusted.  
  
Every evening, Azula stares at the calendar mounted on the study wall, a frown on her face. Chan Li had marked her expected due date with a little ink drawing of an infant in a cradle.  
  
"Are you nervous?" Chan Li asks her once, softly, rubbing her aching shoulders. "I always see you looking at it."  
  
Azula lifts her shoulders in a tired shrug. "I don't allow myself to think about it," she admits. Regardless of the healer Mingyu's assurances, she can't shake the fear of dying in childbirth. She sometimes gets chills when looking at Chan Li's little drawing, at the thought that the day of her child's arrival might also mark the day of her death. But that is precisely what she isn't allowed to think about, for the sake of her own mental state.   
  
"Every day that Zuko doesn't arrive to challenge me to an Agni Kai is a relief," Azula says instead, turning and looking up at him. "Aside from some harm coming to the infant and I, that is the thing I dread the most. I've been apprehensive about the possibility ever since Mingyu told me that I was expecting."   
  
Chan Li frowns. It's clear that the possibility had never occurred to him. "But you're pregnant."  
  
"Exactly." Azula looks down at herself and rests a hand on her stomach. "I'm as weak and vulnerable as I will ever be. If Zuko challenges me to an Agni Kai, I'm not sure that I could win in this state. My center of gravity is off. I wouldn't be able to run, or jump, or do any advanced firebending at all."   
  
Chan Li takes her hand in both of his own, looking profoundly troubled. "If he shows up, you can't fight him," he says earnestly. "I will."  
  
Azula looks at him - her sweet, loyal husband - and presses a hand to his cheek, and says nothing. As fond as she is of him, and as well as Chan Li can acquit himself with a sword, in an Agni Kai… Even Zuko could wipe the floor with him in minutes.  
  
Chan Li reads the look on her face. "I would fight hard," he assures her stubbornly. "Harder than I've ever fought before, if I was fighting on your behalf."   
  
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Azula pauses. "Maybe Zuzu is too stupid to realize what an excellent opportunity this is for him. Maybe that's why he hasn't showed up yet."   
  
"I doubt it," Chan Li says. "It's more likely that he's too honorable to attack his pregnant sister."   
  
Azula gives him an affronted look. "Did you just say something nice about Zuko?" she demands. "I'm certain that that's forbidden within the palace walls, if not the entire capital city."  
  
Chan Li places a hand on her shoulder. "You know," he says, unruffled, "I haven't given up hope of some sort of reconciliation between the two of you."  
  
Azula narrows her eyes at him. "Your sentimentality clouds your reason," she says, her tone making it clear that the topic is closed. "Now, let's do something productive and work on the list of baby names."  
  
-  
  
Thankfully, the intense, all-consuming fear that had gripped her in the early stages of pregnancy relents, as suddenly as it had come on. Her fear at this point is dying in childbirth, but the other fears - the fear of miscarriage, or worse, of the baby being Ozai reborn, returned to haunt her - recede somewhat. Azula is surprised to find that she doesn't really mind the sensation of the baby moving inside her throughout the day and night. It doesn't kick hard or cause her significant discomfort with its movements. Every movement is a small reassurance that it is still alive and healthy.   
  
She won't admit it to anyone, not even Chan Li, but its presence is oddly soothing. It is like constantly having company, and it is a strangely benevolent presence. So that proves it won't be like Ozai, a dark spirit sent to torment her for her sins.  
  
Sometimes, in between her royal duties, Azula will think something to the baby - _that member of the royal council is not to be trusted_ , or, _that one has more intelligence than the others. I hope he is still alive when you rule, someday._ And it kicks, or moves its tiny hands against the inside of her. It is a queer sensation, and Azula doesn't know if she's just being stupid, but sometimes she thinks that it really is listening to her and responding.   
  
Arranging for the nursery is an unexpectedly pleasant diversion. Well. It is a diversion for _her_ , one to check in on once every week, but it is a job that Chan Li tackles with a fanatical glow in his eyes. He hunches over books on the psychology of color and its influence on child development and frets over what color that the nursery walls should be painted until Azula forbids him from broaching the topic with her again. The old nursery that she and Zuko had stayed in had been on the other side of the palace entirely, which made Chan Li look troubled and mutter about _attachment_. So there will be a new one for this infant, in their own wing of the palace, so it will not be far. She hadn't expected it at all, but Chan Li's parents pay for furnishing the entire suite, from the expensive cradle and linen closet full of bedding softer than a cloud, to the mobile that hangs over the crib, to an exquisitely carved antique rocking chair.  
  
"They didn't have to do this," Azula says, looking up at the mobile. It is decorated with hand-painted, hand-carved dragons of all shapes and sizes and colors, flying around in circles. "The palace has more than enough money to handle expenses like this."   
  
Chan Li breaks off from studying the walls - he had finally decided on soft shades of peach, gold, and cream - and comes to stand beside her. "They're absolutely thrilled," he says, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I haven't seen them this happy since Father was promoted to admiral."  
  
Azula raises an eyebrow. "I didn't know that they were so sentimental."   
  
"They always told me that I wouldn't make anything of myself," Chan Li says, after a few moments. He seems to lose his train of thought, and Azula leans against him. Then, he comes back to himself, and gives her shoulder a light squeeze. "I don't think they ever expected to see me like this. The head of intelligence, appointed by the Fire Lord herself, married to the most powerful person in the world, parent to the future heir to the throne. It's more than they ever dreamed of. That pleases them, at least."   
  
Azula tilts her head to the side. "Does it make you happy?" she asks. "To see them proved wrong? They belittled you, and now they have to bow to you and acknowledge you as the second most prominent figure in the entire Fire Nation."   
  
"It does," Chan Li admits hesitantly, his face turning red. "It's not good to say so, it isn't honorable, but…"   
  
"Don't be ashamed," Azula replies, unfazed. She places her hand on top of his. "Parents," she sighs, thinking of everything he has told her about his own, and of her father and mother, and of the scar that mars half of Zuko's face. "They can do such damage. Speaking both literally and figuratively."  
  
Chan Li hugs her. "We won't," he says, with such sincerity that she has to believe him.   
  
-  
  
One weekend afternoon, Azula is sitting in the study and reviewing reports from the city's police force when she hears her husband's dog barking happily. She frowns and sets aside her papers just in time to see the door open. Chan Li makes his way inside, looking tremendously proud of himself, and her eyes widen.   
  
"What is that ridiculous contraption?" she manages, horrified. "Is that even safe?"  
  
Chan Li turns around, showing her the peculiar-looking sling on his back - a sling which carries an appropriated baby, a chubby and stoic six-month-old boy who Azula knows belongs to Renshu and Xue, Chan Li's closest friends. "It's perfectly safe, see? And isn't this great?" he asks happily. "Renshu let me borrow Shang to show you how it works. He gave me the name of the merchant who makes these, and I ordered one to use for ours."  
  
Azula rises and observes the sling from all angles, in morbid fascination. Despite the oddity of it all, the infant looks perfectly comfortable and secure, at no risk of falling to the floor.   
  
"I can carry her around everywhere," Chan Li says, clearly already making plans for unsafe and inappropriate places to carry an infant, such as the jungles of the Emerald Isle or the streets of the capital city. "Look how it leaves my hands free. Shall I order one for you to use as well?"  
  
"I am reserving judgment," Azula says. "You should return this infant to his parents before he comes to miss them."   
  
Chan Li goes off to do so, and returns in good spirits some time later. He kisses the top of her head in greeting before sitting beside her, and Azula glances at him. "You said _her_ , earlier," she observes, resting a hand on her stomach. She and Chan Li had asked, at her weekly appointments, but Mingyu had said she had no way to determine the gender of the baby. It leaves them in the uncomfortable position of calling the child _it_ , but this isn't the first time she's caught Chan Li referring to the baby as a girl.  
  
"You're right," he says. "I don't know why. Sometimes I think of it as a girl, and there are times when I think of it as a boy." He takes her hand. "Do you have a preference?"  
  
Azula looks away, out the window. "I would like a girl," she admits. "It's true that I don't know how to be a good mother to a daughter, but if it were a boy…" The words stick in her throat. "I don't want it to make me think of Zuko, or of Ozai, or even of my idiot uncle."   
  
"Then I will pray for a healthy girl," Chan Li tells her, at once, and she is grateful for it. It is true that the Fire Nation is more progressive than the utterly backwards Earth Kingdom, where newborn baby girls from rural areas are left to die in the woods, but almost everybody seems to prefer boy children over girls, regardless.   
  
"Do you have a preference?" Azula asks, turning the question back around at him.  
  
Chan Li shrugs with his usual equanimity. "It doesn't matter to me. At first I kept thinking of it as a boy, because of how I remembered taking care of baby Chan," he says. "But then I realized that raising a girl probably wouldn't be too different. You can do the same things and have the same adventures regardless."   
  
Azula leans over and kisses him on the cheek. "How progressive of you."  
  
"Although…" Chan Li muses, looking thoughtful. "I have thought that things would work out perfectly if the baby is a girl. She could marry Shang when they both grew up, and then Renshu and I would really be family."   
  
Azula freezes and looks at him. Unaware, her husband is looking off into the distance in blithe, ignorant happiness.   
  
"Are you seriously contemplating marital alliances for my potential unborn daughter?" she asks slowly.   
  
Chan Li glances at her - and then freezes, looking horrified by the expression on her face. "It was just an idea," he says hastily. "Just a silly little idea. Renshu and I didn't talk about it seriously. We just said that it would be nice. We didn't sign anything. I'd never do anything like that without your knowledge and consent."  
  
Azula gives him a long, searching look. "Very well," she allows at last, satisfied that he is being truthful. "I will tell you now not to entertain such ideas seriously. I know that this is the heir to the throne, but when the time comes, it will not have an arranged marriage."  
  
Her tone brooks no argument, and is truly, deadly serious in a way he hasn't heard in a long time. Chan Li blinks. "It's customary," he says uncertainly. "And we did, and…it's worked out well, hasn't it?"  
  
Azula takes pity on him and rests a hand on his. "It has," she acknowledges. "Against all odds. I know that I would have been unhappy if it were any other man. There is no point denying that most people wouldn't have been as compassionate as you." She refrains from mentioning that if she had found herself tied to a husband who was anything less than a perfect gentleman, she would have had him exiled or killed.   
  
Chan Li looks at her sadly. "I'm glad it wasn't anyone else," he says.  
  
"I wish for our child to have the freedom to choose. As long as the potential partner is of noble birth and good character, that will be enough for me," Azula says. "If we have a daughter, she may choose your friends' son, or she may not. In any case, we will have nothing to do with the decision."  
  
Chan Li bows his head, deferring to her wishes, as always. "I understand." And to her surprise, he smiles then. "Earlier, you said you wouldn't know how to be a good mother to a daughter," he says. "But you already are. You're already trying to ensure her happiness."  
  
He leaves her with that and goes to walk the dog, and Azula sits where she is, her hand on her stomach, feeling the baby kick. She should be reassured by his words, she knows, but speaking of the future, a future where her baby is an adult of marriageable age, has just made her uneasy, and--  
  
It certainly can't be passed down from parent to child, can it? As far as she knows, neither of her parents had been - the way she is - or her grandparents, or…   
  
In the privacy of the study, Azula bursts out in bitter laughter, putting her head in her hands. _As far as she knows_. She knows _nothing_. Maybe it is different among commoners, maybe some of them have more freedom if their parents aren't around to disapprove, but noblemen and women who are like - how she is - marry the people they are _supposed_ to regardless, and have children and continue their dynastic lineages, and nobody is any the wiser. Her own children won't know the truth about her, will they? And when her great-grandchildren read about her in their history books, all they will see is that she married Prince Chan Li and had two children with him. She will be the image of a respectable lady and nothing will be written of the truth. Her great and royal ancestors _could_ have very well been like her; she could have inherited these unnatural preferences from them, for all she knows. And she could pass this curse on to her own child.  
  
But Chan Li is normal. Azula curls into herself and wraps her arms around her middle and hopes with everything in her that the baby will be normal too. She doesn't want him or her to grow up like she did, tormented by the same shameful secret, always fearing somebody would find out, fearing the terrible scandal that would ensue, knowing that marriage or even a proper, open relationship with the kind of person she was interested in would never, ever be possible--  
  
Azula stays like that, in a state of almost-prayer, pleading to the spirits, until she hears Chan Li return. When he walks through the door to the study, she's sitting up straight, back to her work, calm and focused, the image of the perfect Fire Lord.  
  
-  
  
Azula is eight months into her pregnancy when she writes the letter.  
  
It isn't something she had planned to do. It is fairly late at night and she's sitting in the study, staring at a massive, detailed map of the Earth Kingdom, at the territories that she is losing to Zuko and the Avatar's rebel army. They had been at an impasse for months, with the Avatar's army unable to break the increased Fire Nation control over the Earth Kingdom territories. But the tide has turned over the past month, with the liberation of two more territories.  
  
Azula stares at the map until the details begin to blur before her eyes, and she knows what she has to do.  
  
Before her resolve wavers, she takes a blank scroll and a pot of ink, and her finest brush. With the exception of the arrest warrant for treason and order for execution that she had written for Ozai, this is the hardest thing she has ever had to write. It goes against everything that she is, it flies in the face of every one of her natural instincts, but it must be done.  
  
She hesitates at the end, and looks over the letter. It is matter-of-fact and to the point, a list of decrees and commands. Her last royal decrees, to the one who has been most loyal to her. If all goes well, Chan Li will never see this. If it doesn't, then this will be the last words she ever says to him.   
  
_Thank you_ , Azula writes, before she can change her mind. _For making the last several months of my life happy ones, and for making me feel loved._  
  
She hesitates again, struggling to breathe around the knot in her chest; the sense of heavy, uncharacteristic awkwardness. Trying not to think too much of it, of what she's saying and what it means, she puts her brush to the scroll.  
  
 _With love,_  
 _Azula_  
  
It had rattled her even more than she thought it would. Azula forces herself to take several deep breaths, gripping onto the edge of the table, trying to regain her composure.   
  
It takes several minutes, and by then, the ink is dry. She rolls the scroll up and ties it with a ribbon. Pushing her chair back from the desk, Azula takes the scroll and studies the room. In the end, she sets it gently on the bookshelf, the same shelf that holds all of his art books. He can't miss it. It sits there, an ominous promise.   
  
Azula finds Chan Li in their sitting room, absorbed in yet another parenting book, his dog lying at his feet. He looks so peaceful, and for a moment, she regrets what she's about to do, but it has to be done.  
  
Chan Li looks up at her when he approaches, and immediately sets his book aside, helping her sit down beside him. "You're still awake?" he asks. "You should be resting."  
  
Azula has to fight the urge to roll her eyes. She has a country to run, but at this stage in her pregnancy, everybody - without exception, regardless of the time of day - tells her she should be resting. "I had some work to attend to," she says, and she rests a hand on his shoulder, to soften the blow. "I left a letter for you on the bookshelf."  
  
Chan Li looks at her curiously, and she keeps speaking, wanting to forestall the question on his lips. "I don't want you to open it," she says. "Not now. If all goes well, I'll destroy it myself after the baby is born."  
  
It takes a few moments, but then she sees the realization dawn on him. "No," he says. "Don't say that, please."   
  
Azula rubs his shoulder, trying her best to be reassuring. "I realize that this is uncomfortable, but I thought I should talk to you about it in person, just so I can explain any questions you might have."   
  
Chan Li won't look at her. "No," he says again, more forcefully this time. "I don't want to hear it."  
  
"I know. But you will. You will listen to me, and do exactly as I say." Azula stares straight ahead, at the fireplace, because it is easier. "If I die, you can expect Zuko to arrive here within a few days of the news breaking, to take the throne. And you will be the first to bend the knee and swear your allegiance to him, and your undying loyalty. Say what you must - tell Zuko that you supported his claim over mine all along, and that he will be a much better ruler than I was. Sign whatever documents that you must in order to assure him that that you mean what you say, and that our child will only inherit if he has no legitimate heirs."  
  
Chan Li swallows hard. "What," he says, sounding dead inside. "I can't say that about you. And I thought you would want…"  
  
"I want whatever would allow you to stay in the palace and keep your current position," Azula stresses. "Otherwise, there is no place for you here. You will return to your parents' estate, and they will send you back to the navy, to leave our child to be raised by nursemaids. You'll see her a few times a year when you return on shore leave. That is the last thing I want, Chan Li."  
  
The thought obviously upsets him, too. "No," he says again, gripping the arm of the sofa so tightly that his knuckles turn white. "I can't do that. I won't."   
  
"I know," Azula says. "It will be better for both of you this way."  
  
Chan Li stares at the ground, looking pale and miserable. Azula touches the back of his neck. "I know that you will take care of the baby, if it should live, and love it," she says. "I have no worries on that front. You will be a good father. You…" She stammers once, uncharacteristically. "You can remarry, if you want. I ask only that our child never lose precedence in your life, and that you raise him or her in my image. Make sure that it doesn't believe everything that they say about me, and that it knows that I was--"  
  
Chan Li shudders and looks like she had hit him. To her surprise, he just leans forward then, almost collapsing, burying his face in his hands. And he just stays like that. A tremor runs through his back.   
  
Tentatively, Azula rests a hand on his shoulder. She can feel him tremble underneath the touch, but he doesn't move otherwise or say anything. "I can see that I've upset you," she says formally. "I apologize, but I thought it had to be said."   
  
Chan Li stays where he is. He makes an odd choking sound, and to her horror, she realizes that he might be crying.   
  
"Dog," Azula calls, and the animal responds to the urgency in her tone, stirring itself from sleep and sitting up, looking at her with bleary eyes. "Chan Li needs you," she says. "Comfort him. Do something."  
  
The big gray dog actually does. It moves close to its master and puts a paw on Chan Li's knee, whining piteously. Her husband reaches out blindly, still unable or unwilling to face her, and takes its paw.  
  
Azula touches his hand once, and then leaves the two of them alone.  
  
-  
  



	30. Part 30

About half of the royal consort's official duties involve charitable work. Helping feed the homeless, putting together disaster relief packages for citizens in areas of the Fire Nation affected by earthquakes or other natural disasters, hosting special events in the palace to encourage the nobility to donate to the underprivileged in rural parts of the Fire Nation, tutoring students at the city's youth academies, spending time with the children in the city's orphanages.   
  
Chan Li enjoys it. Getting out of the palace and having the chance to speak with normal people is always a delight, and he had performed humanitarian work for a couple of years in the navy, right after graduating from the academy. And yet, he hasn't fulfilled this part of his duties in months. It had been during a trip to the city orphanage last year that he had been struck by the poisoned arrow that had nearly killed him. Immediately afterward, Azula had ordered that he halt all charitable work and avoid leaving the palace for any reason.  
  
She hadn't been thrilled about lifting the edict. "Our child could be born at any moment now," she had said to him over dinner last week, glowering. "This would be a terrible time for you to be assassinated."   
  
"I won't be," he had tried to assure her. "Besides, why would anybody want to have me killed, anyway? I don't do anything."  
  
That had just increased the force of Azula's glare, and he had been forced to resort to the _it's good public relations_ and _charitable work spreads goodwill_ arguments. Finally, she had relented, under the condition that he only leave the palace with several members of her own guard.  
  
That is how he came to be in the play room of the city orphanage, laughing over how the children clamber on top of Rao, who wags his tail gleefully and has never looked more joyful. The dog is a huge success with the younger and older children alike, but several of them had come to do watercolors or finger-painting with him as well. He had brought the supplies, which are leagues better than the dull, broken crayons that he had seen on his last visit.  
  
Chan Li watches over the children as they create, painting grassy fields with a huge, smiling sun shining down them, or the ocean with dolphin-eagles leaping free of the waves, or fantastical landscapes made entirely of candy. _Paint whatever makes you happy_ , he had encouraged them, and they had certainly done that.   
  
Being around them, listening to their chatter, eases the knot in his chest. It's so much simpler here. Children say what they mean. They don't pretend politeness and there is no artifice to them, unlike most of the people he encounters at the palace. The children had looked at him with such awe when the headmistress of the orphanage had announced his visit and introduced him to them. _I remember you from last time_ , one of the young boys had cried, before bowing deeply and rushing off to retrieve some pencil sketches he had made in the months since his last visit. Meanwhile, a few children had grabbed him by the hands and dragged him to the framed portrait of the Fire Lord that hung in their schoolroom.   
  
"You're really married to the Fire Lord?" one of them asked, in awe.  
  
Chan Li had said yes, and tensed up despite himself, because he knows what most people think of her, and--  
  
"The Fire Lord is really pretty," one girl sighed admiringly.   
  
"She looks so smart," another girl said, looking up at Azula's portrait with wide eyes.  
  
He hadn't been expecting that, not at all. "Yes," he said, after recovering. _I wanted them to worship me_ , he heard Azula whisper. "Yes, she is very smart. The Fire Lord is a very special person."  
  
Chan Li is in the middle of teaching a few children how to paint fireworks when he hears a loud bang from outside the playroom. The children don't seem to notice, continuing with their work, but he tenses up, turning away from them and stepping in front of the table protectively. Involuntarily, he remembers shouting and the glint of an arrow in the sunshine, the last thing he had seen before blinding pain and waking up in the infirmary a week later.  
  
One of the guards enters the playroom and nods at him formally. "Prince Chan Li," he says, calm, composed, so as to not upset the children.   
  
Not wanting to alarm them, he walks to the guard casually, glancing out the window as he goes. He doesn't see any threat, but that doesn't mean… "Yes?"  
  
"We just received a message from the palace," the guard says, looking over his shoulder to the other guards gathered in the hall. "The Fire Lord, um, is in labor. She started having powerful contractions about an hour ago."  
  
The first, stupid, thought that comes to Chan Li's mind is that the Fire Lord is always in labor. Azula is always working on something or the other.   
  
But then he realizes, then he comprehends the rest of the sentence, and his knees actually wobble. "Oh," he says, his stomach plummeting. "Oh."  
  
Chan Li stands there, frozen, unsure of whether he wants to scream or cry, until he feels small hands tugging at the bottom of his cloak. He turns to see a group of five-year-olds, his painters, standing close and looking worried. "Are you okay, Prince?" one of them asks. "You look sad."   
  
Chan Li sinks down to his knees, so that he can be at their eye level. "I'm not sad," he tells them, with effort. "I just have to go now. The Fire Lord is having her baby."  
  
The children exclaim in excitement. "Will you bring the baby to play with us?" a boy asks, clasping his hands together, and his friends nod eagerly.  
  
His heart breaks at the thought of these children in an orphanage, sleeping ten to a tiny dormitory, while his own child will be born into the greatest wealth and luxury in the world. And, most importantly, have two parents to love her. _Please let her have two parents to love her_. Chan Li reaches out and pats the children on the head clumsily. "I will," he says. "I promise. Keep those paints I brought, and keep painting. I want to see your pictures next time I visit."  
  
He waves goodbye to the children and calls Rao to him, and the dog follows reluctantly. Escorted by the guards, Chan Li steps into the fall sunlight outside. It's not particularly bright or hot, but he feels lightheaded, his heart pounding, like he's about to be sick. He stares at the palace looming in the distance. Inside, Azula is…  
  
"The litter is coming, Prince Chan Li," one of the guards assures him. "It should just be a few minutes now."  
  
The words echo in his ears, _litter_ and _few minutes now_. He hates litters. He hates sitting in them and being conveyed like a sack of potatoes through the over-crowded city streets, regardless of how it's apparently much safer than riding an ostrich-horse. And he doesn't have a few minutes to wait.  
  
"Stay," Chan Li tells Rao. Before the guards have time to react, before they even notice the command, he turns around and takes off for the palace at a dead sprint.  
  
-  
  
The race to the palace passes in a blur. He barely registers the guards' shouting and chasing after him before he takes a few sharp turns, dives into an alley, and manages to lose them. In the end, he almost crashes into two dozen bystanders and vendors and an angry ox-horse, but he shows up at the palace gates nevertheless. The sight of him frightens the guards so much they throw the massive doors wide open.  
  
He's out of breath, sweating, and his chest hurts, but Chan Li keeps running, straight to the royal wing. He stops dead when he sees the pair of guards posted outside the door, their spears crossed in front of it.  
  
"Let me in," Chan Li gasps. "Please."  
  
The guards exchange looks. "The healer and her assistants are inside with the Fire Lord," Captain Kang says stiffly. "Your mother is there as well. Men are not allowed in the birthing chamber."  
  
"I know," Chan Li manages. He'll beg if he has to. "Just for a few minutes. I have to see her. I have to talk to her. Please."  
  
The guards look at one another again, and he almost shouts in frustration, because the members of the Fire Lord's special guard don't marry, they don't have children, so there will be no distractions from their sacred duty, and _of course_ they don't understand.  
  
Captain Kang moves his spear back. "A few minutes," he says gruffly.   
  
Chan Li nods at him in thanks and charges inside, almost knocking an assistant carrying an armful of damp towels off her feet. In the few hours that he's been away, their bedroom has been transformed into a birthing chamber, but he can't really notice anything except Azula - lying propped up against the pillows, face pale, eyes wide and glassy with pain. To his complete surprise, his mother is standing by her side, holding her hand, as the healer bends over her.  
  
They exclaim in disapproval when they see him, but Azula turns toward him and holds one shaking hand out. He takes it, squeezing it hard, and pressing a kiss to her palm. "I'm here," he says. He can barely see her through the anxious tears that fill his eyes.  
  
"Chan Li," Azula says faintly, and holds onto him. But then her entire body shudders and goes tense, and her grip on his hand tightens so much that he almost cries out. But Azula doesn't cry out or scream like he has heard women do during labor. She just collapses limply against the pillows and makes a broken, whimpering sort of sound that he hasn't heard since she wept over her father. Despite how the healer's assistants wipe her face and neck with cool towels, she's sweating.   
  
He shouldn't panic, he knows that, but he's shivering anyway. "Is this normal?" he demands, looking at the healer Meilin and his mother.   
  
"It is," Meilin says, trying to reassure him. "This is completely normal for this stage of labor."  
  
His mother reaches out, in a rare moment of tenderness, and puts her hand on his shoulder. "When I delivered you and your brother--"  
  
Another contraction rips through Azula then, and her eyes roll back in her head. "Mother," she cries out, screwing her eyes shut. Her breathing is harsh and ragged. "I want my mother."   
  
Chan Li stares, stunned to speechlessness. "She's been calling for her mother for the past hour," his mother says, in an undertone. "Poor thing. I don't think she remembers."  
  
He feels sick, thinking of how frightened she must be to call out for the mother she never, ever speaks of. "Spirits," he says, holding her hand tight. "It's all right, Azula. Don't worry. I'm here with you. I'll stay with you."  
  
"With all due respect, Prince Chan Li, you will do no such thing," Meilin says sharply, looking up from her examination. "This is no place for a man. You'll make yourself ill. We will care for the Fire Lord."  
  
"She's right, Chan Li," his mother says, trying to placate him. "You can't stay."  
  
He's on the verge of tears, but he knows he can't argue with them. He cups Azula's face in both of his hands, and she looks at him, her bright golden eyes uncomprehending, dazed with pain. "I love you, Azula," he tells her. It's something he should have said long ago, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to admit it, and he had hoped she knew, anyway. "I love you."  
  
Chan Li kisses her on the forehead, and then his mother is taking him by the arm and leading him away from Azula's bedside, not ungently. "You must take care of her," he says, his voice breaking. "Don't let anything happen to her."  
  
His mother reaches up and touches him on the cheek for one brief moment, and for the first time he can remember, there's actually compassion in her eyes. "Everything will be all right," she tells him softly.   
  
Chan Li just clutches her sleeve, as he used to when he was a young boy. "And give her something for the pain. She's in too much pain."   
  
"We will. Now go. It will be hours before it's over, and I will let you know the moment it is."  
  
When Lady Suyin opens the door, she sees her son's old friend Renshu waiting outside, shifting anxiously from foot to foot. Renshu immediately steps forward and takes her distraught son, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and murmuring reassurances.   
  
Suyin closes the door behind her, trying to hide how Chan Li's emotional display at the Fire Lord's bedside had rattled her. If her husband was here, he would have rebuked him for it, but…   
  
"My son was right," she says to the healer. "Do you have anything for the Fire Lord's pain? We don't want her going into shock."   
  
Meilin nods. She's measuring out two large vials of a clear liquid into syringes. "One will numb the pain," she says. "And one will make it easier for her to push the baby down the birth canal. She shouldn't strain too much."  
  
Suyin holds the Fire Lord as the healer injects both vials, and Azula trembles and gasps for breath, struggling through the contractions that wrack her body. Another woman would be screaming and howling from the pain of it - Suyin had, loud enough that she could be heard on the other side of the estate - but consciously or not, the Fire Lord refuses to let herself cry out.  
  
"There," Meilin says, once she is done. "That will make this a much easier process. The Fire Lord will be sedated and not entirely lucid, but it appears that she isn't already."  
  
Her daughter-in-law's lips are chapped, and unthinkingly, Suyin places a finger into the small pot of coconut oil that an assistant had placed at the Fire Lord's bedside, and smooths a little onto Azula's lips. Her husband and her sons would be shocked to see her like this, but this - it makes her remember being sixteen and giving birth to Chan Li. She had been so afraid. But she had been surrounded by her mother, her grandmother, her aunts, and her two best friends and two older cousins, all of whom had already borne children. They had mopped the sweat from her brow and sung to her to calm her nerves. They held her hands through the contractions, helped her breathe through the pain, and talked her through how to push her son into the world.  
  
There is nobody in this birthing chamber who is related to the Fire Lord by blood, and no close friends who are bound to her by love. Just servants, the old healer, and her, a mother-in-law. As fearsome as the Fire Lord's reputation is, as fierce as she looks in her throne room, as frightening as she had been when she struck Ozai down… Now, she just looks like a frightened child. Frightened, and alone.   
  
Suyin brushes loose locks of Azula's hair from her forehead as she shudders with another contraction. The medicine already seems to be taking effect, though. There's less of that terrible pain and tension on her face. "It's all right," she says softly. "The draught will make things better. You'll feel it in a few minutes."   
  
Azula looks up at her. "Mother," she says weakly, voice hoarse from holding back cries.  
  
Suyin feels her chest tighten as she remembers Princess Ursa. It's ill luck to speak of the dead in the birthing chamber, but it might give Azula some comfort. "I knew your mother," she says quietly. "She and…" She can't say Ozai's name. Not here. "She was a friend of Admiral Chan and I. She visited our estate several times. And I'm sure she loved you very much. She would be so proud to see you now, about to have your own child."   
  
Azula's eyes drift shut.  
  
-  
  
The pain recedes from shattering, insides-twisting, bone-breaking, to something distant and remote. Azula is only vaguely conscious of the healer examining her, touching her, saying things like _not ready yet_ and then, later, indeterminably later, _almost ready, she's almost there_. Her voice sounds like it is coming from a great distance away.  
  
Her mother stands at her bedside, holding her hand, wiping her face with damp, cool towels. "You're doing so well, Azula," she murmurs. "Keep breathing, slow and steady."   
  
"This is so gross," Mai says. She's standing a foot away from the bed, looking paler than usual, like she's about to be ill. "Nobody told us it was going to be like this. I can't believe I'm even here. I am _never_ going to do this."   
  
But Mai moves closer anyway, when the next contraction comes, and grips her hand tight. "You'll be fine," she says, in a tone that is as close to encouraging as Mai can ever get.   
  
Ty Lee flutters around like a nervous butterfly. She adjust the pillows underneath her and feeds her chips of ice that feel like bliss to her parched mouth and dry throat. "You've been so brave," she says. "And you're so close! Everything is going to be perfect, you'll see."   
  
Her mother holds her, rolls the sleeve of her damp robe up, exposing the crook of her arm. "Just one more shot," she reassures her. "You're going to start pushing soon, and this will make it easier and reduce the pain."  
  
The needle hurts going in, and Azula gasps. "I know, sweetheart," her mother says, kissing her on the forehead. "I know. It's almost over. Push."  
  
She leans forward, bracing herself against Mai and Ty Lee on either side of her, and complies. Her mother had said that the medicine would reduce the pain, but she still feels it, like her hips are breaking, like knives are being driven into the small of her back. Azula can't see over her knees, covered with a bedsheet, but she smells blood, and it makes her cry. She can't die like this. She always thought that if she had to die, she would die in battle, not in childbirth. But she keeps pushing, like her mother tells her to, and everything seems to fade, then. Mai and Ty Lee, even the worst of the pain. There is just her mother's voice telling her to keep pushing.   
  
"The baby is crowning," the healer announces sharply. Azula pushes more, and she's not even here anymore, she's fighting her enemies in the Earth Kingdom, Mai and Ty Lee by her side. She leaps forward, attacking, pushing her opponents back into a corner, and--  
  
She feels the healer pull the baby free of her. Azula collapses against the pillows, weak, gasping, exhausted. She hears exclamations all around her, palpable excitement, and a tiny crying noise above all else, but when she looks around her mother is gone, Mai and Ty Lee are gone, and she feels so bereft. There are just a few servants and Chan Li's mother, Lady Suyin, standing by her side. "My baby," Azula manages, reaching out, disoriented. The others might be gone, but she still has her child. She still hears the small cry. Small but strong, a good sign.   
  
Lady Suyin bows to her deeply. "A beautiful little girl, Fire Lord," she says, her voice trembling with emotion. "The healer is cleaning her up for you now, and doing a standard test to listen to her heart and lungs."   
  
The words make something inside of her sing. A girl, just like she and Chan Li had wanted. Azula nods, struggling to regain control of her breathing. "I want to hold her now," she orders. She can't shake the irrational fear that her baby will vanish, just like her mother and Mai and Ty Lee had, leaving her with nothing. "Test later."   
  
To her frustration, the healer Mingyu doesn't listen. It's several agonizingly long minutes before she returns, carrying a small bundle wrapped in red silk. "Congratulations, Fire Lord," the healer says, bowing her head. "Your daughter is perfectly healthy."  
  
It's exactly what she had wanted to hear, and Azula feels limp with gratitude, barely able to hold out her arms. The healer gently places her daughter in her arms, and Azula stares, overwhelmed. She is surprisingly large for a newborn baby. She has thick black hair on her head, which seems impossible, and small hands that look like they should belong to a doll. To her shock, the baby's eyes flutter open then, and she finds herself staring down into eyes as intense and golden as her own.   
  
Chan Li's mother gasps and says how much the baby takes after her, but Azula doesn't hear it. She bends her head and presses her forehead to the baby's, holding her close, probably tighter than something so small should be held. The pressure in her chest feels suffocating.   
  
This is hers, her own, to protect and look after, always. She will love this child no matter what. Even if she grows up to be unintelligent, like Zuko and Chan Li's younger brother, even if she's not a skilled firebender, even if like Chan Li, she has no head for ruling a country. No matter what, her daughter will always know that she can count on her mother as her closest ally. They won't have the adversarial relationship she had with her father, or that Ozai had with Grandfather Azulon. That ends here and now.   
  
Mingyu clears her throat. "I apologize for disturbing you, Fire Lord," she says, and Azula notices that she has unearthed a large, old volume from somewhere. It is bound in weathered dark red leather, and the insignia of the royal family is embossed on the front in gold. "I have already made a note of the princess's weight, as well as her hair and eye color, but I must add her name to the records as well."  
  
Azula lifts her head proudly. "Lan Min," she says, naming what she and Chan Li had taken months to decide on. "The first of her name."   
  
"Beautiful," Mingyu says, inking the name onto the page. "And unique. Were you inspired by Avatar Roku's wife, perhaps, Lady Ta Min? You know that Avatar Roku was your maternal great-grandfather."  
  
Azula frowns. "No," she says, intrigued. Perhaps when she has recovered, she will investigate the connection further. "I did not. Chan Li and I named Lan Min for one of the incarnations of the female spirit of wisdom."  
  
"Appropriate, for the future Fire Lord," Lady Suyin says.   
  
Azula hugs her daughter tightly, and she refuses to let go even when the servants help her stand up so they can strip away the bedding, and help her into a fresh robe, thick and soft. She holds the baby while Chan Li's mother gently combs out her tangled hair and braids it neatly, settling it over one shoulder. "You look beautiful together," Lady Suyin tells her.   
  
Azula looks up at her then. "Thank you," she says. "For your assistance during the birth." She certainly hadn't expected it.   
  
The older woman inclines her head. "It was a privilege."   
  
Azula takes a deep breath and nods toward her daughter, drowsing in her arms. She is reluctant to give her up, but she has to remember that this is Chan Li's parents' first grandchild, after all. Besides, Lady Suyin had borne two children and is therefore unlikely to drop this one. "Would you like to hold her?"  
  
Lady Suyin takes the baby and smiles one of her rare smiles, brightening up her austere face, as she looks down at her. "She looks so much like you, but I can see a little of my son in her too."  
  
"That pleases me," Azula says, remembering everything Chan Li has told her about his parents and how little they have always thought of him. "Your son is the most noble and honorable man I have ever met. There is no other man who could be half the consort that he has been."  
  
Lady Suyin blinks, stunned. "I," she says, so visibly taken aback that in other circumstances, Azula would have laughed. She hopes that Chan Li's mother passes the message on to his father. Old Admiral Chan would probably choke. "Thank you, Fire Lord. I'm sure that my son must be ready to kick down the door and come inside. Would you like me to allow him in, or would you prefer to have some time alone with the baby?"  
  
"Please send him in. I am sure he is quite agitated." Azula sighs, thinking of the fit her husband must have worked himself up into.   
  
Lady Suyin carefully puts her daughter back into her arms and goes to fetch Chan Li from the hallway. In quick succession, Azula hears the door opening, an outburst of cheering, a dog barking, and then a crash in the sitting room.   
  
Then Chan Li comes rushing in, looking quite beside himself. His hair is in an even worse state than usual, like he's been gripping at it in distress. When he sees them, he stops dead and looks like he might collapse out of joy and relief. "You're all right," he says, beaming like she's never seen him smile before. "Mother said it was a girl, a perfect, healthy girl."  
  
Azula holds their daughter out to him, and Chan Li almost trips over his own feet in his haste to make it to them. He hugs her so tightly that her face is nearly squished against his shoulder and then kisses her forehead. Not at all to her surprise, he looks at their daughter and almost cries. "Can I hold her?" he asks.  
  
"Of course. You're probably much more experienced at holding babies than I am." This is the first baby she has ever held in her life, and from the way the healer, the servants, and Lady Suyin have been looking at her, Azula suspects she is doing it wrong and nobody dares to say anything.  
  
Chan Li takes their daughter, holding her close. He takes her tiny hand in his fingers and bends over her protectively, just like she had, and unexpectedly, Azula feels her throat close over, feels the tears coming hard and fast.  
  
"No," Chan Li says, looking up at her, stricken, and she knows that he knows what she is thinking about. "Don't cry."  
   
She knows, as much as she knows that the sun will rise in the east tomorrow, that Chan Li won't hurt their daughter, ever. He will be kind and loving and gentle and as unlike her father as night and day, fire and ice. As uncertain as the future is, she can see that much stretching before them, at least, and Azula wipes her tears away self-consciously. Chan Li takes her hand and holds the baby in his other arm, and they sit there, a small family, for the first time.  
  
After some time, there is a knock on the door, and when Azula calls for the visitors to enter, Lady Suyin and Captain Kang, the captain of her guard, step inside. The captain sinks to his knees at her bedside and bows his head. He is holding a large box of milk sweets, a traditional gift offering, in his hands. "We offer you the deepest congratulations, Fire Lord," he says. "We are incredibly grateful for the princess's safe arrival."  
  
"You may rise, Captain Kang," Azula replies. "And come closer."  
  
He does, looking surprisingly affected by it all, and actually smiles upon looking at the princess's face. "She is lovely," he says.  
  
"Yes," Azula agrees. "She is. I know that you will serve and protect Princess Lan Min with the same unwavering dedication with which you have always guarded me."  
  
"I swear it on my own life," the captain says solemnly, placing a hand over his heart.   
  
"You may make the official announcement, Captain," she orders. "Have the kitchens prepare food to be shipped to the city's orphanages and the poor in celebration of the princess's birth."  
  
Captain Kang nods. "Yes, Fire Lord. We will begin striking the gongs within the hour."   
  
He leaves, and Lady Suyin after that, to fetch her husband. "Chan is coming too," Chan Li mumbles. "Renshu sent a raven. He should arrive in the capital by tomorrow."  
  
Azula frowns. "Fine. But don't let him hold Lan Min without supervision."   
  
Chan Li's parents arrive shortly afterward. The proud Admiral Chan kneels in front of them - in front of Lan Min - and Azula looks down at her daughter and for the first time, she feels the weight of the realization that she is the heir to the throne. After her time, Lan Min will rule as the most absolutely powerful person in the world. All over the Fire Nation, all over the _world_ , men, women, and children will bend the knee to Fire Lord Lan Min.  
  
Chan Li's parents bring a lacquered cherrywood box, holding a set of red and gold silk newborn pajamas, and a matching, tiny, hat and slippers. Admiral Chan carefully places the hat on her head and the slippers onto Lan Min's feet, while Lady Suyin presents them with a collection of priceless earrings in topaz, ruby, and diamond. "For after her fifth birthday, when her ears are pierced," she says.   
  
They stay for some time, and Azula watches as Chan Li's parents hold her daughter and fuss over her. Her daughter is alert and moves her arms, prompting Admiral Chan to make a proud statement that she looks strong and healthy. She has never thought about it before, but these will be the only grandparents Lan Min ever has.   
  
Despite her best efforts to stay awake and watch over Lan Min, Azula can feel her eyelids grow heavy and leaden. Her body aches, and now that whatever Mingyu had given her is wearing off, she feels sore and raw. All she has done is lie in this bed for the past day, but she feels more exhausted than she ever has before.   
  
Lady Suyin notices. "We should let the Fire Lord rest," she says, carefully handing Lan Min back to her son. "It's been a very long day for her."   
  
Admiral Chan nods, eyeing his son in the doubtful way that he always does. "The Fire Lord has been through an ordeal," he instructs gruffly. "Take care of the princess and let the Fire Lord sleep."  
  
They leave, then, and Azula can hear the gongs being struck. She vaguely wonders whether anybody is celebrating in the streets, the way they apparently had when she and Zuko were born, or whether they're mourning the fact that their Fire Lord did have a healthy daughter after all. Chan Li holds her hand, rubbing his thumb against her palm. "Do you feel all right?" he asks anxiously. "Should I get the healer?"  
  
"I'm fine," Azula says. "Just tired. You and Lan Min don't have to go anywhere."  
  
Chan Li looks at the door once, warily, as if he's afraid his father might burst through it at any moment to chastise him. Once he's determined that it's safe, he stands up from the chair and comes to sit beside her on the bed, cradling Lan Min in his arms. The baby appears tired too, her eyes closing.   
  
Azula leans against Chan Li's shoulder, looking at her daughter, and he wraps an arm around her, holding her close. _Family_ , she thinks, for the first time in a long time. It is a little surreal. She has her own family now. It feels so different from what she remembers of her mother and father and Zuko. There is comfort in the place of tension, and she hopes it will be like this always, as Lan Min grows.   
  
She has never been particularly inclined toward optimism, but she thinks it will be.  
  
-  
  



	31. Part 31

Kimiko wakes early, as she always does. She prepares hot fruit porridge for breakfast and puts it on the table, helps Aki finish the last few problems of his mathematics homework, and packs lunches for Yuming and the children. She stands at the door and waves goodbye as they leave. Ryou and Aki are old enough to walk to school by themselves now, and they take Hana with them.  
  
Then she goes to the shrine in the backyard, as she always does. Kimiko lights a stick of incense and kneels, her head bowed, praying for her children. She had looked at the calendar anxiously, reflexively, this morning, and she had counted. It has been six months since the announcement of the Fire Lord's pregnancy. She should be due any day now. Kimiko thinks about that often, at odd times of the day or night. She remembers the excruciating pain of giving birth. She had been so frightened, and it makes her insides clench up to think of Azula going through that. She is still so young, too young.  
  
_You should be there with her._  
  
The thought crosses her mind often. She should - the right thing would have been to return to the capital as soon as Ozai's disgusting treachery had been discovered. But she was a coward, unable to imagine what her daughter's reaction to her return would be.  
  
_I'll make this up to you one day, Azula_ , Kimiko vows, the stone cold against her knees. _I promise._  
  
When the incense burns out, Kimiko rises with some difficulty and resumes her chores. She is sweeping the kitchen when she hears the distant noise of the gong being struck. After the first two strikes, she pauses, frowning, wondering what is going on. But then the gong rings out twice more, and she flashes back to the calendar this morning, and--  
  
Kimiko throws the broom down and rushes out of the house. She walks to the center of the town as quickly as she can, her heart racing, her head down. They wouldn't strike the gongs if anything had happened to the Fire Lord, or if the baby hadn't survived the birth. She remembers that much. Her hands tremble anyway, and she tries to hide the shaking in the folds of her skirt.  
  
She sees her usual newspaper vendor standing next to the cabbage cart, a towering stack of papers beside him. "Fresh from the mainland!" he calls. "The Fire Nation Times! Fire Nation Today! The Phoenix Post! The Sunrise Journal!"  
  
Her resolve to at least pretend calmness fails at the sight of him, and Kimiko runs the rest of the way, fishing a handful of coins out of her pocket. "One copy of The Fire Nation Times, please," she gasps, holding the coins out to him.  
  
The vendor grins broadly. "One copy coming right up, for my most reliable customer," he says, offering her a copy of the paper with a flourish.  
  
Kimiko doesn't dare to look at it now, because she knows she won't be able to hide her reaction at what she sees. "Thank you," she says, before almost running off. He will ask her about this tomorrow, and she'll have to come up with some excuse, but that can wait.  
  
She finds an empty bench on the outskirts of the town's small park - thankfully empty now, as all the children are at school. Someone is still striking the gong. She unfolds the paper and stares at the headline that dominates the front page, in large, bold type, all capital letters. The birth announcement, from the nation's capital, declaring that Fire Lord Azula has given birth to a healthy baby girl, the Crown Princess and heir to the throne.  
  
Kimiko clutches the newspaper and dissolves into tears as she sinks down onto the bench, weak with gratitude. She doesn't know how long she sits there, sobbing helplessly, wiping her face with her sleeve, until the tears finally begin to subside. She aches so much inside, and she isn't sure whether she's crying out of gratitude and happiness or sadness for not being there for this - or for all the years that Azula needed her. She still remembers her daughter as a little girl, and now Azula has a child of her own. It seems incomprehensible.  
  
She wipes her face again and unfolds the paper, struggling to read the rest of the article through her swollen eyes. "Lan Min," Kimiko whispers almost noiselessly. The report from the palace says that Princess Lan Min was born strong and healthy, with the black hair and golden eyes that run in the royal family, eight pounds and twenty-two inches long. Large, for a newborn. Much larger than tiny Zuko, who had struggled to thrive, and little Azula, and Kimiko hopes that this is a good sign for Lan Min. The even better news is that the report states that Fire Lord Azula is doing well and is back on her feet, planning to resume her duties at the end of the week.  
  
_Thank you, thank you, thank you_. Kimiko doesn't realize she is speaking out loud until a flock of pigeon-mice waddling past give her curious looks. She can breathe. It feels like a weight has been lifted off her chest. She thinks of Azula, far away in the capital. She must be resting, and spending time with her daughter and her husband. Her new family. It is a bittersweet, jarring thought, but she hopes that Lan Min and Chan Li bring Azula all the happiness in the world - more than she had found with Ozai and Ursa and Zuko. Azula deserves happiness and love, unconditional love, after everything that has happened.  
  
Kimiko is nowhere near a shrine, but she prays that the blessing will find its way to her daughter regardless. She holds the newspaper to her chest, hugging it tight, and tilts her head up to the cloudless blue skies.  
  
-  
  
The three of them - she, Zuko, and Ty Lee - are sitting under the weeping willow and having tea when Mai hears the raven's call.  
  
She tilts her head up to the sky and whistles at it. Sokka's messenger hawk, as loyal as it is, hasn't been able to handle the increased communication demands that come with a growing number of freed Earth Kingdom territories. Mai had trained this raven herself, and Katara, Suki, and Aang have ravens of their own.  
  
"Oh, no," Ty Lee says, shading her eyes and looking up to the sky. "She looks so tired, and she's carrying so much stuff. I hope she doesn't crash."  
  
The raven crash-lands into Zuko's lap a few moments later, squawking in an irritated, exhausted way. He pats it on the back awkwardly. "It's okay, bird. You can rest now."  
  
Mai sighs, picking the tired bird up. She had never been allowed a pet growing up. This is the first animal she's had extended contact with, besides that stupid bear in the Earth Kingdom, Appa, and Momo. She hadn't planned on it, but she's become a little fond of the old featherbag. "There," she says, unburdening the raven's load of correspondence. She takes a half-eaten biscuit and offers it to the raven, and the bird plucks it out of her hand, squawks, and flaps to a branch above them.  
  
Ty Lee giggles, and the three of them begin looking through the letters and reports from the freed provinces. "All clear on the western front," Mai finally says, breaking the long silence. "Bozhou, Fu Yang, Heifei, and Xuancheng are doing well. Fire Nation forces attempted to retake Bozhou and Fu Yang last week, and Heifei and Xuancheng three weeks before, but all four provinces held strong."  
  
"Longhai almost fell to the Third Company of the Fire Nation Army," Zuko says, a frown creasing his brow. "I'll have to write to Uncle and tell him to send supplemental forces there. We've managed to hold onto all of our freed provinces so far. We don't want to start losing ground now."  
  
Mai nods in agreement, absorbed in the documents. "It looks like Fu Yang can spare the extra soldiers."  
  
"This letter says that Quanzhou is really prospering because it doesn't have to pay such heavy taxes to the Fire Nation anymore," Ty Lee chips in happily. "Isn't that nice?"  
  
Zuko smiles. "Yeah," he says. "It is."  
  
"Is your uncle's army still moving to liberate Baiyin on schedule?" Mai asks, tossing him a scroll. "People in Enping want to know if they should send extra soldiers."  
  
"The army will strike Baiyin at the beginning of next week." Zuko looks contemplative. "Let's ask Enping to only send extra soldiers if they're confident they can still hold off any Fire Nation troops that come their way."  
  
They lapse into silence again, and it is only broken when Ty Lee gasps loudly, alarmed.  
  
Zuko sits up straight, looking around in confusion, and Mai has a dagger in her hand at once. "What is it?" she demands.  
  
Ty Lee shakes her head wordlessly and points at the pile of correspondence. More specifically, at the newspaper that they have partially uncovered, a copy of the Fire Nation Times. All that is visible of the headline is the words _Fire Lord_. Zuko blanches, losing color.  
  
"Stop," Mai orders, immediately trying to tamp down the feeling of anxiety that rises in her chest. Someone in this group has to keep a cool head. "Relax. I'll read it."  
  
There had been a time, just after the incident at the Boiling Rock, that she wouldn't have been too upset upon receiving news about something bad happening to Azula. To her displeasure, that time is long gone.  
  
Mai reaches for the paper with steady hands, pushing the scrolls and letters off it, and picks it up. All the breath leaves her body in a sigh, and she hadn't been aware that she was holding her breath, anyway. Stupid.  
  
"What is it?" Ty Lee asks, her hands wound together in an anxious knot on her lap.  
  
"Congratulations," Mai says, by way of reply, looking at Zuko. "You're an uncle to the newest princess of the Fire Nation. Azula is perfectly fine and should return to work this week."  
  
Zuko stares, and then he seems to go limp with relief, or just the release of tension, or something. Ty Lee's shoulders slump and she presses her hands over her mouth, overwhelmed, and Mai reaches out and places a gentle hand on her friend's shoulder. Ty Lee has been worrying about this for months. Most other women in her situation would have mixed feelings about their ex being pregnant, Mai thinks, but Ty Lee hasn't expressed anything but concern for Azula's health and safety. Not a word of jealousy.  
  
"I have to go thank the nature spirits," Ty Lee blurts, leaping up. "I've been praying to them every day."  
  
She hugs Mai and Zuko and then runs off into the woods, looking so joyful and relieved that it's like she might take flight at any moment. Mai sighs, before taking Zuko's hand. "What are you thinking?" she asks.  
  
He squeezes her hand, still looking dazed. "I don't know," he says. "A lot of stuff. Wondering if she'll be a good mom." Zuko drops his head into his other hand. "It's stupid, really," he says, his voice muffled. "But I thought of Uncle and how much he loves me and how he's helped me, even though he hated Ozai, and I wondered what kind of role I'll play in the kid's life, if any."  
  
"For what it's worth, I don't think it's a stupid thing to think of. Your family situation is complicated." Mai pauses. "What kind of role do you want to play in her life?"  
  
Zuko shrugs self-consciously. "I would like to be a good uncle, like Uncle Iroh is to me. But, I mean, Azula hates me. Lan Min will probably hate me too. If I defeat Azula in the Agni Kai, she's going to hate me even more, and Lan Min is going to grow up hearing all about how Uncle Zuko stole the throne from her mother." He frowns, looking away. "I can't see us ever being a happy family."  
  
The last sentence had obviously slipped out against his better judgment, and Zuko looks at her out of the corner of his eye, a hint of defensiveness in his expression. Mai just nods, understanding. "You don't have to look at me like that. I get it," she points out. "I know you think of Aang, Sokka, and all the rest as family, but it's not a crime - or childish - to wish that you could be happy with the family you were born into as well."  
  
Zuko hangs his head. "Ozai was beyond redemption," he says stiffly. "I still can't believe I was stupid enough to believe it, but for a couple of days, right after Aang took his bending, I thought that maybe he would change, maybe it would be a turning point for him. Then I realized what a fool I was being." He looks up, a weary expression on his face. "But my mother is still out there somewhere, I know it. And so is Azula, of course. Sometimes I can't help but hope…"  
  
He trails off, unwilling to finish the sentence. Mai takes pity on him, and leans forward, kissing him on the cheek. She is a pessimist by nature and always has been. In truth, Princess Ursa is probably long dead, and Zuko's assessment of the future relationship between him and Azula being marred by tension and enmity as long as they both live is likely correct. But she will hope that she is wrong on both counts, for his sake.  
  
When their entire group reconvenes for dinner later, Mai sees that the news has spread. Three other copies of the Fire Nation Times lie near the campsite, and everyone looks uncomfortable, like they aren't sure whether to congratulate Zuko or not. Katara, Sokka, and Suki remain nervously silent, but Toph punches him in the arm and Aang gives him a hug. "You're going to be a great uncle, I know it," Aang says, sounding completely sure of himself. "Just as amazing as Uncle Iroh."  
  
"Thanks," Zuko says, smiling for only the second time that day, but it quickly disappears as he looks over at Katara. "So, uh," he stammers. "When do you think Azula will be strong enough to fight? The paper said she planned to resume her duties by the end of the week, but I don't think that really means she's up to fighting form, right?"  
  
Katara exhales slowly. "Zuko, I don't mean to be rude, or to make it seem like I don't have faith in you," she says carefully. "But if you strike within the next few weeks, or the next month, it's your last chance for an absolutely guaranteed win. Suki said that most of the Kyoshi Warriors she knows have returned to full fighting form about three months after giving birth. I expect that Azula will be no different."  
  
Zuko takes it in. "All right," he finally says, and Mai and Ty Lee look at him sharply. "…Three months it is, then."  
  
Most of the group looks at him as solemnly as if he had just announced the date of his own funeral, and Zuko scowls. "Look, I know you guys just think I'm being sentimental, but that's not it," he snaps. "It's a matter of honor. It won't be an honorable win if I challenge her when she's weak like this."  
  
"Zuko," Sokka cuts in, almost hopping with agitation. "Does it really matter? This isn't about honor. This is about the good strategy we need to use to end a war!"  
  
"You don't understand," Zuko says, with surprising calmness. "In the Fire Nation, everything is about honor. People will talk. Everybody in the entire Fire Nation - from the commoners to the nobles who sit on my councils - will know that after biding my time for more than a year and a half, I waited to strike until Azula was physically vulnerable. They'll say that I didn't have the courage to face her at her full strength. They'll say that I was a coward. That is _not_ how I want to start my reign as Fire Lord."  
  
He glares around at them, and then sits down in the dirt, brooding. Aang gestures for everyone else to sit too, and they do, clustering around the fire that provides some protection from the chilly night. "Zuko's right," Aang says, his tone conciliatory. "He's the one who's going to have to be dealing with the nobility and the common people of the Fire Nation for the rest of his life. So, three months it is."  
  
Everyone else nods reluctantly, and the silence is broken when Toph burps. "So, Sparky," she says. "I've been wondering. What are you going to do with Azula after the Agni Kai?"  
  
Zuko fidgets. "Well, traditionally, there are three options." He counts them down on his fingers. "Execution, exile, or imprisonment."  
  
Ty Lee stares, shocked into speechlessness.  
  
"Well, that sucks," Toph says.  
  
"What did you expect?" Katara asks.  
  
"You could give her a position on your council," Ty Lee suggests immediately. "Azula has been running the country for like two years, and there's nothing she cares about more than the advancement of the Fire Nation. She'd be a good advisor to you."  
  
Zuko hesitates, obviously reluctant to burst her bubble. Sokka shakes his head. "That's a good idea in theory, but can you really imagine Azula ever being content with being subordinate to Zuko?"  
  
"Sokka is right," Mai says quietly. "I know your intentions are good, but it would be salt in Azula's wounds. She might even take it as an insult."  
  
"Well, you can't have her executed, obviously," Aang says. "That would be terrible, even if she wasn't leaving an innocent child behind."  
  
Zuko shudders. "No way. What do you guys think about exile? She could take her husband and the baby with her."  
  
"Where would you send her?" Suki asks. "The only reason your exile…worked, so to speak, is because you were traveling the world searching for Aang. There's nothing for Azula to look for. Where would she go? I'm not sure you could trust her to just settle down and live a peaceful life somewhere."  
  
"If you have her out of sight, she'll be plotting against you," Sokka adds darkly. "I'm not a fan of the exile idea, unless you plan on keeping her under house arrest and reading all of her incoming and outgoing mail. Even then, it'll be difficult to monitor her at such a distance."  
  
"That leaves imprisonment as the only option," Katara says.  
  
Mai shakes her head. "I don't think that's a good idea. Her husband comes from one of the richest and most influential noble families in the Fire Nation. It won't be good if Zuko makes enemies out of them."  
  
"I can't," Zuko says unhappily. "Maybe I could do it if Azula were on her own, but if I separate her from her husband and child and lock her up somewhere, I'll make lifelong enemies out of all three of them."  
  
"Three?" Suki asks, confused.  
  
"It's not good if Lan Min grows up only being able to visit her mother in jail once a month," Zuko explains. "Aside from the obvious reasons of it being cruel to her and Azula. I need Lan Min to like me, not hate and resent me. She has as good of a claim to the throne as I do, if not better."  
  
Toph scratches her head. "She's a baby."  
  
"She's the legitimate firstborn child of the crowned Fire Lord," Zuko corrects. "And sixteen years from now, if she wants revenge on me for dethroning her mother and throwing her into jail, she would be within her rights to challenge me for the throne."  
  
Sokka puts his head into his hands. "This is a mess," he proclaims. "This is ridiculous."  
  
Ty Lee had been hunched over pensively, staring into the fire, but she suddenly sits up straight. "I've got it!" she exclaims, her words rushing together in excitement. "Admiral Chan has a spot on Azula's war council, so he and Lady Suyin live at the capital, right? The estates!"  
  
Mai understands at once. "The estates," she repeats. "Ty Lee, you're a genius."  
  
"Can you explain?" Aang asks apologetically. "I think we're missing some Fire Nation nobility background history here."  
  
"Admiral Chan and Lady Suyin are Chan Li's parents," Mai says. "Their ancestral family estate is several hours from the capital, but they live in the capital almost year-round. I think Admiral Chan's brother manages the estate and their lands when they're gone. Zuko can order Azula and Chan Li to return to his family's estates with their daughter."  
  
"It's like a sort of exile, but closer," Suki says approvingly. "You'll be able to keep an eye on her in a way that you can't if she was in the Earth Kingdom or somewhere. It's kind of like a comfortable house arrest."  
  
"And I don't think Azula would find it as offensive and insulting as a real exile or imprisonment," Zuko muses. "I mean, she'll be the lady of the second wealthiest house in the Fire Nation, and she'll live in the luxury she's used to. Lan Min will stand to inherit all of it after her grandparents and parents' time, so that should please Azula."  
  
"It's still a step down from being Fire Lord, but at least it's a more graceful step than being stripped of everything and exiled from the country she loves, in shame and dishonor," Ty Lee says quietly. "I know you guys don't like her, but she's dedicated her entire life to serving the Fire Nation, and she deserves that much dignity."    
  
Aang pats her on the back. "It's the perfect solution. Thank you."  
  
"Yes," Zuko echoes, visibly relieved to have the decision taken out of his hands. "Thank you."  
  
"We'll see how it works," Katara says warily. "If there are any issues after a year or so, we can always reevaluate."  
  
"I think it'll be okay," Aang, ever the optimist, replies. He looks around the fire, his gaze finally resting on Zuko. "So, it's settled?"  
  
Zuko nods once, resolutely, sealing his sister's fate with a word. "Yes," he replies. "It is."  
  
_If the Agni Kai goes as planned_ , Mai thinks reflexively, despite herself. _If the fight doesn't spiral out of control and neither of you end up dead._  
  
She tries not to shudder at the thought, and distracts herself by pulling out a knife and offering to scale and gut the fish for dinner.  
  
-  
  
Zuko goes to sleep early that night, looking quite preoccupied. Mai takes the night's first guard, but even after her shift is over and a sleepy-looking Sokka shuffles out of his tent to take over, she isn't quite ready to go to bed. She stands in the middle of the woods for a while, feeling a little on edge, before deciding where she wants to go.  
  
She finds Ty Lee awake, seated in meditation pose on a large boulder, the light of the full moon shining down on her. As quiet as Mai's approach is, and though Ty Lee looks completely removed from reality, her eyes closed, her friend responds to her presence. "Hi," she says, without opening her eyes.  
  
Mai scowls her displeasure. "How did you do that?"  
  
"I felt your aura, of course." Ty Lee opens her eyes. "You couldn't sleep either?"  
  
Mai removes her black cloak, spreads it onto the dirt beside the boulder, and sits on it. "No. It feels…a little bit weird," she admits. "After all this time spent hiding out in the mountains, we finally have a real timeline for going back to the Fire Nation, and the Agni Kai."  
  
"Three months," Ty Lee says softly. "Everything is going to change."  
  
"I know. I can't stop thinking about it." Mai curls her hand into a fist, stifling the urge to bite her fingernails. "Not about the Agni Kai. I have to skip over that part."  
  
"I know what you mean." It takes some effort for Ty Lee to replace the pained look on her face with a smile. She slides off the boulder, settling down on the cloak. "So," she says, drawing out the word until it lasts way more syllables than it needs to, and Mai cringes, knowing what is coming. "When's the wedding?"  
  
"Not for a while, thankfully," Mai replies, with feeling. "Probably not for a year or so. Zuko needs to get established as Fire Lord first. That's the priority. In the meantime, I'll take over Chan Li's job as the head of intelligence." She rubs the back of her neck. "The formal betrothal and preparing for the wedding are going to be a nightmare, and to make matters worse, my mom will definitely show up. You'll have to help keep me sane."  
  
"Right," Ty Lee responds, her voice a little higher than usual. "Yeah, of course."  
  
"Ugh, whatever. It's not worth thinking about." Mai shudders, and then looks at her friend curiously. "Do you have plans?" she asks. "For when we go back?"  
  
Part of her is asking for selfish reasons, out of a desire to keep her oldest and truest friend close - and _not_ part of a traveling circus that would only visit the capital once a year, if that. Ty Lee would make the perfect guard, or an excellent spy. She might be more interested in the latter, if she was able to view it as some sort of game.  
  
Mai watches her out of the corner of her eye, debating when or if to broach the idea. She doesn't want to say anything and make Ty Lee feel like she has to do it. It could be that she would rather join one of the capital's prestigious companies of theater or dance. That would be fine, too. They could still see each other every couple of weeks or so.  
  
Ty Lee twists her hands together in her lap and takes a deep, steadying breath. "I…" she starts, before faltering. "I'm not going back."  
  
Mai blinks, convinced she had misheard. But Ty Lee just looks at her, an almost frightened expression on her face, and this is _real_. "What?" she stammers. "What do you mean, you're not coming back?"  
  
Ty Lee takes another deep breath, like she's trying to summon all of her courage. "I talked to Suki a couple of weeks ago," she admits. "I'm joining the Kyoshi Warriors."  
  
The words don't make sense, and Mai can't remember the last time she was this confused. " _What_?" she repeats incredulously. "Is this a joke?"  
  
Ty Lee reaches out to her at once. "Mai--"  
  
Mai jerks back. "I don't understand. I don't get it. Tell me you're not serious."  
  
"I'm sorry, but I can't." Ty Lee looks miserable. "I mean it. I'm joining the Kyoshi Warriors. Suki said that I can join the rest of her team to fight at the battle to liberate Ba Sing Se, and after that, I'll go back to the Earth Kingdom with them."  
  
" _What_?" Mai almost explodes, her voice a choked whisper. "Why? You… You left your family because you couldn't bear being just one of so many of your sisters, you didn't want to be part of a _matched set_ , and you wanted to be an individual - and now you're joining the _Kyoshi Warriors_ , of all people? It doesn't make sense!"  
  
"I know. But please listen to me," Ty Lee pleads. "Hear me out."  
  
Mai lifts a hand to her suddenly aching head. "There is nothing that you could possibly say to make this make sense," she replies shortly. "I would understand if Azula and her husband were at the palace, and you couldn't bear to see Azula because it would hurt you, but they won't be. They won't be anywhere near the capital. Please don't feel like you have to go away because of that."  
  
"I know," Ty Lee says again. Her eyes glitter with tears. "At first, when I talked to Suki, it was because I thought that Azula and Chan Li _would_ be at the palace, with her being on Zuko's council or something. I hated to leave you, but I knew it would be painful and awful for both me and Azula if I were around, so I talked to Suki--"  
  
"Well, Azula won't be around," Mai says, a little desperately. "Can you tell Suki you changed your mind? I'm sure she'll understand."  
  
Ty Lee shakes her head. "It's not about that," she says, looking agitated. "Or, it's not about that anymore. Mai, when I asked Suki if I could join the Kyoshi Warriors, I told her about me. The truth, I mean. To see if it would be a problem."  
  
Mai freezes. Both Azula and Ty Lee - neither of them had confided their secret in anybody but her. In the Fire Nation, it isn't something that can ever be spoken of. "Oh," she whispers.  
  
Ty Lee leans forward and takes her hands. "It wasn't," she says, and this time, it's something like excitement that makes her eyes sparkle. "Suki said that it wasn't an issue. She said that there are other people like me on Kyoshi Island. And it's _okay_."  
  
Mai's jaw drops.  
  
"I know," Ty Lee says, a tiny, nervous giggle escaping her.  
  
"By the fact that it's _okay_ , you mean…" Mai begins, struggling to understand.  
  
"I mean that they don't have to hide it!" Ty Lee bursts out, before looking around guiltily and lowering her voice. "I mean, you still can't get married, obviously, but Suki told me that there are women who live together - and men, too - and everyone knows it, and that's no big deal there. Apparently it never has been. Nobody says anything. It's like it doesn't even matter. It's like there's no difference."  
  
It's like Ty Lee can't even breathe from excitement, and Mai's chest hurts so badly. "That's nice," she manages.  
  
"Suki said that there's even this one couple that has kids, adopted from some orphanage in the mainland," Ty Lee confides, her eyes wide. "They're raising them. And it's okay. It's allowed!"  
  
Mai just nods, not trusting herself to speak. Ty Lee squeezes her hands. "Mai," she says, her voice growing serious. "This was the hardest decision I've ever made. You're my sister, and Zuko is like the brother I never had. I love you both. But I…"  
  
"No," Mai manages. "You don't need to explain yourself to me. I want you to be happy."  
  
"I know. I know you do. You've always been so understanding." Ty Lee looks at her, pained. "I still love Azula," she confesses, wiping her eyes. "Maybe part of me always will. But she's married, and she has a child, and I'm tired of having these horrible wishes that her husband would die, because that's the only way we can ever be together at this point. That's not me. That's not the kind of person I am. I need to move on, and on Kyoshi Island, it'll be so much easier. I can actually go out with someone in public - and one day even live with her and have children, if we wanted - without people saying hateful things."  
  
Mai knows that it is the truth. If Ty Lee returns to the Fire Nation, even if she becomes a wealthy and accomplished theater performer or opens her own prestigious school of dance, she could never dream of having a fraction of the freedom she would have on Kyoshi Island. No matter where in the country she went, she could never live with a woman openly - let alone raise a child someday - without being faced with immense social censure at best, and potentially violent outbursts of close-mindedness and hate at worst.  
  
Even the crown princess of the Fire Nation, the heir to the throne and one of the most wealthy, powerful, and influential people in the country, hadn't had that freedom.  
  
"Will you give me your blessing?" Ty Lee asks tremulously. "I don't want to go away if it would make you unhappy. I don't want you to be sad and lonely. I'll stay if you really want me to."  
  
Mai can tell she means it. And it is the absolute last thing she wants to do, but Mai leans forward and wraps her arms around Ty Lee. "Go and be happy," she says, her heart breaking in a way it hasn't since the day Zuko left his stupid breakup letter and the day Azula had come a hairsbreadth from aiming deadly lightning at her. She had lost Azula then, one of her two closest friends, and now she will lose Ty Lee too. "Don't even worry about me. I'll be fine. You deserve all the happiness in the world."  
  
Ty Lee hugs her tight and cries, and Mai swallows over the viselike tightness in her throat, her head pounding. "I'll miss you," Ty Lee says, her eyes red, when she finally lets go. "But I'll write, and I'll visit when I can. I'll definitely be there for your wedding. Wild komodo-rhinos couldn't keep me away."  
  
It hurts so much, but Mai looks at Ty Lee and thinks of her friend's future, a future where she's walking down the street hand-in-hand with a black-haired Earth Kingdom girl and smiling, and that is worth it. It has to be worth it.  
  
She holds onto that thought for the next hour and a half as they talk, until Ty Lee almost falls asleep sitting up and has to be walked to bed. She holds onto that thought as she walks back to the shade of the weeping willow that she shares with Zuko. Then Mai lies down, curling up beside him, and cries silently, her shoulders shaking with the force of the tears, until sleep finally claims her.  
  
-  
  
_to be continued_  
  
-  
  
Thank you so much to everybody who left comments on the previous set of chapters. I really appreciate you taking the time, and I enjoy reading every comment.  
  
I am 90% done with the next chapter as well. I intended to post them both together, as I usually do, but I've been so busy with a summer grad school class and training for a new job that I'm not sure whether I could finish Part 32 within the next week. I know you've all been waiting, so I thought I would post this chapter now. Part 32 will be coming within the next week or two.  
  
As always, thank you for your patience and for reading.    
  



	32. Part 32

The weeks following Lan Min's birth pass quickly.  
  
Azula had lost track of how many parenting books her husband devoured during her pregnancy. She hadn't cracked the spine of a single one. But the morning after she gives birth, she wakes, alert and sharp - though sore and uncomfortable - and ready to learn. The first order of business is learning how to hold Lan Min properly. Chan Li teaches her how to do so, and it is more difficult than she had expected. Azula's natural inclination is to hold the baby tightly to her at all times, to ensure her security and prevent her from falling to the ground - a horrifying fear that plagues her at random times of the day.   
  
"You're squishing her," Chan Li says, looking torn between worry and amusement. "Don't hold her too tight against your shoulder."  
  
"Nonsense," Azula protests, but she allows him to pat her arm, showing her where to relax her grip, and she does so grudgingly.   
  
The next matter that must be addressed is feeding the baby. Chan Li had fed Lan Min a couple of bottles of special formula while she had been resting, but the healer Mingyu suggests a wet nurse instead. Azula strikes the prospect down at once, glaring at her and holding Lan Min a little tighter. "Absolutely not. I will not have another woman feeding my child." The thought of someone else holding and nurturing Lan Min, and her daughter looking up into another woman's face, perhaps even bonding with her, is untenable.   
  
Mingyu looks at her doubtfully. "Fire Lord, are you willing to do it yourself? It can be an uncomfortable process."  
  
"So was pregnancy and childbirth. I am none the worse for wear." Azula shifts, ignoring the fatigue and residual aches from her ribcage down. She has a nation to run and must resume her duties by the end of the week, despite her husband and the healer's protests, and she can only hope that her physical state will have improved somewhat by then.   
  
"I can help," Chan Li adds, at once. "I mean, you can do it twice a day, or whenever your schedule allows, and I can feed Lan Min the bottles during the rest of the day. That should work, right?"   
  
"Yes," Azula agrees. "I approve."   
  
Mingyu hesitates. "It is somewhat unconventional, mixing the special formula with mother's milk. Most royal infants are fed with just one or the other - including you, Fire Lord. I do not see harm in it, but we can monitor the princess and see how she responds."  
  
Learning how to feed Lan Min is considerably more difficult than learning how to hold her had been. It is made worse by the fact that Chan Li is banished from the room, leaving her to Mingyu's instruction. Still, it is nothing compared to the rigorous physical training routines she had undergone in her youth, and the results are just as satisfying - perhaps even more. It has only been a day, but every time Lan Min looks up at her, Azula feels more and more convinced that her daughter already recognizes her.   
  
"Hello," she tells Lan Min quietly, whenever they have moments alone. "This is your mother." The moments alone are more rare than she likes, considering that over the next few days, a flood of Chan Li's friends and relatives (as well as his idiot of a younger brother) descend on the capital to bless the newborn. A steady stream of members of her councils also come to pay their respects to her and Lan Min, their future Fire Lord.   
  
But Lan Min twitches her tiny fists and watches her solemnly, resting her head against her chest, and Azula imagines that she understands.   
  
She has only a week away from her duties, and for the second time in her reign as Fire Lord, Azula doesn't think about work. She spends all day and evening, and sometimes part of the night, with Chan Li - now the happiest person in the world, it seems - and their daughter. They are always accompanied by Chan Li's dog, which had immediately attached itself to Lan Min with the same unwavering devotion that it shows him. They take long walks through the royal gardens, Chan Li showing Lan Min leaves and flowers and blades of grass, or sit together in the nursery adjacent to their rooms. Azula reads the baby stories. Chan Li sings, which is bad enough to make her grimace and even the dog look at him askance, but Lan Min doesn't seem to mind.   
  
The peace and serenity is too short-lived, and before she knows it, it is time for her to resume her duties.   
  
"Are you sure this is wise?" Chan Li asks her quietly, during the last night of her extremely abridged maternity leave. "You're still recovering from giving birth. Can't you wait for another week?"  
  
Azula winces, massaging her shoulders. "No," she says shortly. Between the extremely tight, corset-like abdominal binding, her new, extra-tight breast bindings, and the fact that the healer said she will have to continue wearing stupid, uncomfortable pads for another two weeks, she is in a near-constant state of low-level discomfort. Nobody had told her that recovering from childbirth would be like this. "And please stop asking. I would prefer some more time to recuperate as well, but I dread to think of the amount of work that would have accumulated in my absence. The unfolding of current events waits for nothing."   
  
Chan Li rubs her shoulders. "I know," he says sadly. "But take care of yourself. Don't make yourself ill. Try to rest as much as you can."  
  
"Yes," she says, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. "I will."   
  
Despite the promise, she begins waking earlier than she ever has before in order to accommodate her new schedule. After exercising in the morning, running through modified versions of her firebending forms, Azula visits Lan Min and feeds her, taking some time to hold her in her arms afterward and help dress her for the day. She invariably spends more time in the nursery than she should, before rushing back to her rooms to bathe, dress, and eat a light breakfast. And then, two hours after waking up, the real work of her day begins.   
  
Her royal duties take up as much time as they always have. The only difference is that at the end of the long day, she visits the nursery. More often than not, Chan Li is already there with Lan Min, though sometimes he is walking outside with her and the dog. In any case, Azula feeds Lan Min, and then gives her daughter her nightly bath, which she does with the utmost care and precision. Chan Li gently pats her dry with a warm towel, and they dress her in soft sleeping clothes together. Usually, the bath puts the baby mostly to sleep, so they take turns holding her until she drifts off.   
  
It is usually late, at that point, and they eat dinner, manage to work for an hour or two, and then fall into bed and sleep like the dead until sunrise the next morning. It is an exhausting routine and she is always weary, but Azula can't bring herself to mind. She had never imagined it of herself, but she enjoys spending time with her daughter. It is strangely calming. She had always viewed babies and children as vacuous and dull creatures at best and manic little monsters at worst, but Lan Min is different. There is some intelligence in her bright eyes, and when the baby grasps her finger, or nestles her head against her shoulder, or looks up at her with a placid, trusting expression on her small face, Azula feels a quiet contentment she has rarely experienced before. She almost cries the first time Lan Min looks right at her after a bedtime story and smiles, six weeks after her birth.  
  
"You do so much for her," Chan Li says quietly, later that evening, as she walks up and down the nursery, rubbing Lan Min on the back in an attempt to soothe her to sleep. "The healer told me earlier that she's never seen a Fire Lord take such an active interest in caring for their heir."  
  
Azula pauses, glancing up at him. "Before she was born, I was afraid she might not love me, or care for me," she admits. "Now I believe that she does. I have to be worthy of that love, Chan Li. I will not make the mistakes that Ozai did. I am as responsible for Lan Min's well-being as I am for the Fire Nation's, and I will see both of them thrive."   
  
He smiles, the expression crinkling the corners of his tired eyes, and leans down to kiss her on the top of the head. "I know you can do it."  
  
In lieu of patting him on the arm or the shoulder, as her hands are full, Azula leans against him briefly. "As for you, you do realize that you're probably the first royal consort in history to take an infant to work every day, correct?"  
  
Chan Li rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Does that mean I can carry Lan Min in her sling for our official family portrait?"  
  
Azula tries not to scoff at the mental image. "Absolutely not. I want to hold her. And I knew you would take to this like a turtleduck to water."  
  
"I love it," Chan Li confesses softly, reaching out and placing a gentle hand on Lan Min's head. "For so long, ever since I was a teenager, I felt like I was just…drifting. It's only recently, with you and Lan Min, that I feel like I've finally found my purpose in life. For the first time, really, I feel like I'm doing exactly what I'm meant to be doing."  
  
Azula blinks, surprised and touched, and she looks up at him. Over the past nearly two years, Chan Li has become an unfailingly steady presence in her life, an anchoring, solid constant amongst upheaval.   
  
"Well," she says, quietly, steadily, so she doesn't wake the baby. She carefully hands Lan Min to him, and places a hand on his arm. "We're happy to have you too."  
  
-  
  
Chan Li hadn't planned to finish the book tonight. He was supposed to read no more than a hundred pages - but that had been before the main suspect in the murders turned out to have been helping the lead detective all along, and it had all been downhill from there. He doesn't put the book down until it's finished, long after the clock in the corner of the room has struck eleven. He closes the book and rubs his eyes wearily, coming out of the trance brought on by long stretches of reading. The bedroom is still empty, and he can see light coming from the study. He isn't sure whether Azula had fallen asleep over her work, as she does sometimes, or just lost track of time, so he gets out of bed to check on her.   
  
Chan Li finds her on the sofa, poring over a thick, unfamiliar tome. There are dark circles under her eyes and an expression of intense concentration on her face. She doesn't seem to notice him, and he clears his throat softly to get her attention.  
  
Azula glances up at him, looking momentarily disoriented. "Chan Li," she says. "You're up late."  
  
"I really shouldn't read before bed." He sits beside her and touches the book. It's old, the paper thin and fragile beneath his fingers, and the print is impossibly small. "Work?"  
  
Azula runs her fingers over the page, and it's only then that he notices that it's not just words on the pages; there are intricate family trees as well. "Not quite," she says. "The genealogy of the royal family. The healer made an interesting comment at Lan Min's birth, about her name."  
  
Chan Li raises an eyebrow. "I know it's an unusual name for the royal family, but…"  
  
"It's not that." Azula frowns. "Mingyu asked me if I was inspired by Avatar Roku's wife, Lady Ta Min."  
  
"Oh, that's interesting. I forgot her name until now." He yawns. "But why would you name our daughter after the wife of the last Fire Nation Avatar? It seems like an obscure connection to me."   
  
"Because I wouldn't be naming Lan Min after the wife of the last Fire Nation Avatar." Azula grimaces. "I would be naming her after my maternal great-grandmother."  
  
Chan Li's jaw drops, his exhaustion forgotten. "What?"  
  
"I know. Mingyu claimed that Avatar Roku was my great-grandfather on my mother's side. I was sure she was mistaken, or confused, but I checked the records myself. The old bat was telling the truth."   
  
Chan Li rubs the back of his neck, struggling to take it in. He had never excelled at history, but even he remembers the legendary conflict between Fire Lord Sozin and Avatar Roku. He looks at Azula, then, the Fire Lord sitting before him. "It makes sense," he says. "The fact that you're descended from both Fire Lord Sozin and Avatar Roku. That explains your firebending, and why you're a stronger firebender than Ozai and Azulon were when they were young."  
  
Azula looks displeased. "Avatar Roku was a filthy traitor," she says. "He was disloyal to his nation and to Fire Lord Sozin. It's tainted blood that runs through my veins, through my mother."  
  
Honestly, Chan Li doesn't think the tainted blood comes from Roku and Ursa, but he wisely remains silent.   
  
"This does explain one thing," Azula says, after some time. "Zuko. Zuko's weakness and his turning traitor to the Fire Nation. You're right. It makes sense. Even when I was young, I could always sense a difference between Zuko and I. He and my mother were so similar." Her lips twist bitterly. "Just as Ozai and I were alike. Everybody always told me that I was my father's daughter, and that I was just like him, his own image. Nobody ever said that of soft, weak Zuzu. No, everybody in the palace, everybody we met, said he was his mother's son, so kind and gentle and sweet, just like Princess Ursa."  
  
Her words are alive with resentment, and Chan Li reaches out tentatively, taking her hand in his. Azula curls her fingers around his, without meeting his eyes. "I took it as a sign," she says. "That it was me who was supposed to succeed my father to the throne, not Zuko. I was worthy, I was the dragon's daughter, and he was nothing more than a tame sheep. Just like my mother."  
  
"Princess Ursa was accused of assassinating Fire Lord Azulon," Chan Li ventures cautiously. "She was fiercer than you knew."  
  
Azula gives him a sharp look, but says nothing. For a long time, she lapses into silence. "I don't know what it means any longer," she says, at last. "So Zuko is our mother's son, and Roku's great-grandson. He's the coward and the traitor. But I don't want to be…"  
  
She stops abruptly, and for only the second or third time since they have been married, Azula looks confused. "I," she begins, and she actually stammers, something that Chan Li has never heard her do before. She leans forward, her hair hiding her face. "I don't want to be Ozai's daughter," she says, slowly, deliberately, with surprising firmness. "His blood, and Grandfather Azulon's, is just as tainted as Avatar Roku's. Roku was a coward and a traitor, but Ozai was mad. Maybe he hid it better, but he was just as sick and unbalanced as people say I am."  
  
The shock of Azula renouncing her birthright is enough to render him speechless, but Chan Li manages to stammer out a denial. "You're not sick or unbalanced," he insists. She has done things that few others would, but he knows her better than maybe anyone else, and he knows this.   
  
Azula turns her head, looking out the window, but otherwise, she remains very still. "Maybe I'm not - maybe I'm getting better now - but Ozai was. He shouldn't have burned Zuko," she murmurs, her voice barely audible.  
  
Chan Li stares, taken aback. His instinct is to agree, of course, but he makes the effort to keep his mouth shut. Azula will elaborate on it when she is ready, if she will at all. On second thought, he shouldn't be as surprised by the admission as he is. Azula has always spoken of Zuko with nothing but loathing, disgust, and condescension, true… But in the aftermath of everything that had happened with Ozai, while she was pregnant with Lan Min, she had admitted that Ozai had wronged both of them.   
  
"What Ozai did was wrong," he says cautiously. "It was vile." And it was a testament to everything that was wrong with the Fire Nation that Ozai hadn't been vilified by the public. _He was just disciplining his son_ , was what people had said, over and over, at every port he had docked at. He had been serving in the navy at that time, and he remembers when the news broke all too well. Chan Li remembers kneeling before the small shrine on the ship that night, bowing his head in gratitude, because even though his father shouted, even though he had told him countless times that he shamed their entire family with his stupidity and was unworthy of the family name, Admiral Chan had never lifted a hand to him.   
  
Azula looks down at her hands. "I never realized it until now," she says. "But if I were in his place… If someday, I give Lan Min command of an army in a battle, and she fails and shames us, and brings dishonor to our nation…" Her eyes are glassy and unfocused. "I would be angry. Maybe I would even send her into exile. But I could never, ever hurt her. I would rather bring fire to my own hands and burn myself than do what Ozai did to Zuko."  
  
Chan Li rests a hand on her shoulder. "There is goodness in you," he tells her softly. "No matter what you tell yourself, there is more goodness than bad. You are so much more than what Ozai was."  
  
Azula leans in and kisses his cheek. "Thank you," she says, sounding very far away. "You should go to sleep. I have some thinking to do."  
  
-  
  
Huanxi Village is a day's march from Ba Sing Se, and it is there that General Iroh's army meets to prepare for the battle to retake the city.   
  
Team Avatar, as Sokka calls them, won't participate in the fight - to all of their discontent. Their business lies elsewhere. Zuko will face Azula in an Agni Kai on the same day that the rebel army gathers in front of the walls of Ba Sing Se. They are hoping for a victory on two fronts; that Zuko will defeat Azula, just as General Iroh's army defeats the Fire Nation forces occupying the city.  
  
The details of the battle strategy had been finalized several weeks ago. There is only one reason that they had stopped here, and that is for a brief reconnection. Nobody wants to say that it might be a _last_ reconnection, if things go badly for the rebel army forces or for the group accompanying Zuko to the Fire Nation. Still, that ugly truth remains on Mai's mind as Sokka and Katara run at their father and tackle him with such force that they nearly knock him over, as Suki is mobbed by a group of her Kyoshi Warriors, as Zuko embraces Iroh.   
  
Too soon, after lunch, there is a last meeting with the battle commanders, and then Zuko and Aang meet with Uncle Iroh privately. Mai politely declines the invitation to join the conference, as well as tea with Zuko's uncle. She has other plans for the afternoon. Even if both of them survive the conflicts that the next day holds, this is the last time she will see her best friend in… She doesn't even want to think about how long it will be. A year, at least, or however long it will be until her and Zuko's wedding. In a few hours' time, she will climb onto Appa's back to begin the journey to the Fire Nation, and Ty Lee will stay here with the Kyoshi Warriors, and for the first time in years, they will be separated. A permanent separation, unlike the one that had taken place when she had been sent to Omashu with her family and Ty Lee had joined the traveling circus.  
  
Mai tries not to dwell on it, not wanting to ruin their last afternoon together, but the thought leaves a knot in her stomach. It will take a long time for her to come to terms with it; to stop missing Ty Lee every day. She sees a similar anxiety in her friend's eyes, but Ty Lee smiles brightly anyway as they walk around the village and talk about everything except what tomorrow holds, their arms linked together.   
  
When the sun starts to sink in the sky and Mai's stomach starts to hurt even more, Ty Lee stops to buy a thick string of jasmine flowers, a small sachet of purple powder, a matchbox, and a few sticks of incense from a street vendor. "I want to do a blessing for you and Zuko before you leave," she explains, determinedly refusing to meet Mai's eyes, as she hastily counts out coins for the vendor.   
  
Mai nods once, unable to speak. Ty Lee takes the supplies and finds a deserted tent, ducking inside it, and Mai follows her. She watches as Ty Lee lights the incense, which fills the tent with the heavy scent of roses. Her friend approaches her then, the jasmine wound into a ball in her hands. Ty Lee looks at her solemnly and then moves the flowers in a circle around her face and head, murmuring incantations under her breath.  
  
Mai doesn't have a religious bone in her body, she never has, but she remains still until Ty Lee finishes. She sets the flowers aside, dabs some of the purple powder on top of Mai's head, and stands on her tiptoes, gently blowing the powder away. "There," she says, her eyes full, and hugs her tight. "So you're safe in the Fire Nation, tomorrow and always, and so that you'll always be happy."  
  
Mai wraps her arms around her best friend, resting her head against her pink-clad shoulder. The next time she sees Ty Lee, she'll be wearing green. "You know I'm not very pious," she manages, a little unsteadily. Opening up is still so hard, but she has to do it this once. "But I want the best for you too, every day. All I want is for you to be happy and - to find someone. You deserve nothing but the good things in life, Ty Lee."  
  
Ty Lee sniffles and then leans forward, kissing her on the cheek. "Thank you."  
  
Mai pulls back before she can start crying too, and Ty Lee takes her hands. "It's not goodbye," she says firmly.   
  
"No," Mai says quietly, ignoring the tightness in her throat and the screaming voice inside her that asks _what if it is, what if it is_ , what if Ty Lee falls in battle or Zuko loses the Agni Kai and Azula's guards kill all of them-- "It's not."  
  
"Mai? Ty Lee? Is that you?"   
  
It's Zuko's voice, calling from outside, and Mai clears her throat, trying to regain what remains of her composure. "Yeah," she says. "Come in."  
  
Zuko enters, looking relieved. "I've been looking everywhere for you guys," he says. "It's about time for us to leave, and…" He falters. "I wanted to say goodbye."  
  
"I'm glad you found us," Ty Lee says, grabbing the flowers again. "I want to bless you."  
  
Ty Lee repeats the ritual on the startled-looking Zuko, and Mai tries not to smile. Her friend's beliefs, picked up during her time with the circus, are a dramatic departure from the traditionally practiced ancestor and spirit worship in the Fire Nation. But it occurs to her suddenly that Ty Lee's prayers have worked before, during Azula's pregnancy. Maybe they will work again.   
  
Finally, Ty Lee reaches up and blows the purple powder from Zuko's hair. "For your safety, and victory in the Agni Kai, if it has to come to that," she says softly, a sad look in her eyes, and Mai realizes how hard it must be for her to hope for Azula's defeat.  
  
Zuko seems to have arrived at the same realization, and he places a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you," he tells her sincerely.  
  
Ty Lee shifts from foot to foot, visibly anxious. "Zuko," she says. "Can you promise me something?"  
  
Zuko blinks, taken aback. Ty Lee isn't one to ever ask for favors. "Yeah, of course."  
  
"Please don't hurt her," Ty Lee says, in a rush. "I know that an Agni Kai can get out of control, but please don't…"  
  
Zuko nods, looking older than his years. "I'll try to resolve this with nobody getting hurt," he says, putting his hand over his heart. "I promise you that."  
  
Ty Lee exhales, relieved. "Thank you so much," she says. "You're going to be a good Fire Lord."   
  
Mai comes to stand beside Zuko, and he takes her hand. "And you're going to be a great addition to the Kyoshi Warriors," he says. "But if you ever change your mind, for whatever reason, or if they aren't nice to you or something… You always have a home in the palace, no matter what. We want you to remember that."  
  
Ty Lee hugs both of them. "You guys are the best," she says, her voice muffled by Mai's sleeve.  
  
"Zuko! Mai!" Sokka yells, from somewhere outside. "Where are you guys? We're about to head out."  
  
Mai shudders with displeasure, but Zuko and Ty Lee both give her encouraging smiles. She walks out with them on either side of her, until they rejoin Appa and Aang, Katara, Sokka, Suki, and Toph. There is a crowd of well-wishers clustered around Appa - the Kyoshi Warriors, Hakoda and Bato, Master Pakku and Master Jeong-Jeong, and Uncle Iroh, of course.   
  
Zuko goes to his uncle to receive a last blessing and words of encouragement from him, and Aang helps Katara, Sokka, Suki, and Toph up onto Appa. Then it's her turn to go too, and Mai turns to Ty Lee, the goodbye caught in her throat. Ty Lee squeezes her hand, and letting go is so hard, but she does, climbing onto Appa's saddle. Zuko joins them a moment later, his hands trembling slightly with emotion when Mai helps him up.  
  
Aang calls for Appa to take flight, and he swoops up and off the ground in one smooth movement. Mai leans over the saddle with everyone else, watching the small, waving crowd beneath them as they fade into the distance, growing smaller and smaller, until the clouds obscure their view.  
  
-  
  
It is the first day of winter when the news arrives.  
  
The Fire Lord is in a meeting with the minister of public health regarding several recent outbreaks of typhoid fever in the rural areas of the Fire Nation. Captain Kang stands guard alone outside the throne room. Everything is quiet, and he is still, but his eyes don't stop moving, scanning the surroundings, for more than a few moments at a time.  
  
The captain hears the disturbance before he sees it. Heavy footsteps slamming against the marble floors, approaching at a run. He tenses up, instinctively moving into an attack stance, but then the source of the noise becomes apparent. Two other members of the royal guard come sprinting around the corner, breathing hard. "Captain!" one of them shouts.  
  
Captain Kang frowns. He hasn't seen members of the guard this rattled since the night that they had learned of the former Prince Ozai's disgusting treachery. "What is it?" he snaps, looking around them. "Is the Fire Lord in immediate danger? Has anybody infiltrated the palace?"  
  
"No," one of the guards manages, gasping for breath. "Not yet, anyway."   
  
Before he can demand a clearer response, the other guard cuts in, pointing at the sky. "The bison," he pants. "We were standing guard on the roof, and we spotted the bison. The Avatar's flying bison. It vanished into the clouds before we could aim our arrows properly, but…"   
  
Captain Kang takes a short, sharp breath. "I see."  
  
"Is it the Avatar and Prince Zuko?" Tai, the younger one, asks, shifting from foot to foot anxiously.   
  
"That is the most likely scenario," the captain responds, with a calm he doesn't feel. His head has started to throb. There have been no reports of the Avatar and Prince Zuko's rebel army, led by General Iroh, outside the gates. So this battle will be fought between Zuko and Azula alone, in the Agni Kai chamber, but that is no consolation.   
  
"What should we do, sir?"   
  
"Wait here for further orders," Captain Kang commands tersely. "I must inform the Fire Lord."  
  
He does what he never has before, and enters the throne room without a summons. The minister of public health, kneeling before the throne, looks back at him, alarmed. Azula raises an eyebrow.   
  
"I apologize for the interruption, Fire Lord," the captain says, bowing deeply. "I must speak with you at once."  
  
The Fire Lord notices the urgency in his tone, he can see that. She shifts position slightly on her throne, her cool composure unwavering. "Minister Shun," she says. "I will summon you after this matter has been dealt with. I am sure you understand."  
  
The minister bows to her, directs a frightened look at Captain Kang, and then flees. Once he is safely out of the room, the massive double doors of the throne room banging shut behind him, Captain Kang sinks to his knees. "Fire Lord," he says, as steadily as he can. "The palace guards spotted the Avatar's flying bison in the skies above the palace. The beast disappeared into the clouds before they could train their arrows on it."  
  
Azula exhales slowly, her wall of blue flames casting shadows on her face. The only sound in the room is the flickering of the flames. There is no surprise in her expression, or anger, and Captain Kang watches her warily. There had been a long stretch of time - in the aftermath of the unfortunate incident with her young allies at the Boiling Rock, until everything that had happened with Ozai - that the Fire Lord's temper had been more volatile than a tinderbox. When the news of Lord Tenshi's rebellion broke, and after the assassination attempt on Prince Chan Li's life, the Fire Lord's rage had been frightening to behold.   
  
Now, the Fire Lord just sits there, unruffled, her posture unchanged. Cold as ice. _Cold fire_ , Captain Kang realizes, with a chill. He remembers this Azula, methodical, removed, and calculating, from her search for the Avatar.   
  
And he remembers Zuko, a toddler when Azula had been born. Azula had been his charge, but he had watched the prince grow up too, into a soft, gentle young man, as unlike the Fire Lord sitting before him as night and day.   
  
_Prince Zuko_ , Captain Kang thinks. _You should have stayed away._   
  
"It appears that my brother has come to pay me a visit," Azula says, briefly inspecting her fingernails. "You didn't mention anything about my idiot uncle's rebel army, so it appears that it will just be Zuko and I. Maybe the Avatar and his little band of misfits, too."  
  
The captain nods. "Shall I instruct the guards to shoot them down when they try to land?"  
  
"That won't be necessary. Allow them to land where they will, and instruct the guards to stand down. I expect they will choose the outdoor Agni Kai arena as a landing space, due to its location. The guards' priority should be to keep Prince Chan Li and my daughter safe. As for my brother and his friends…" Azula smiles. "Escort them to me personally - as you would an honored guest - and tell them that I have been expecting them."  
  
He understands. This is a strategy typical of Azula; to keep her opponents unbalanced. Zuko and the Avatar will be expecting resistance, expecting to have to fight their way to the Fire Lord in her throne room. They will be rattled by the safe landing and escort into the palace, unsettled and unsure of what to expect. Captain Kang rises and bows, ignoring the heaviness building in his chest. He wants to say something to her, the Fire Lord he has guarded and protected for close to seventeen years, since her first night of life, but he isn't sure what to say, what is appropriate to say.   
  
"Captain," the Fire Lord says, and he looks up at her. "Don't worry," she tells him, not ungently. "Now go."   
  
Her loyal captain strides out of the throne room, leaving her with her usual four guards. They move closer to her now, in one fluid, perfectly synchronized movement, facing the doors of the throne room, ready to strike. Azula closes her eyes for a moment and sighs. She has never been so aware of her own heartbeat. It is just a little faster than usual. There is only faintest stirring of nervousness. She had planned for this. She knows what she must do, and she is ready. At this final stage, everything depends on Zuko.   
  
After some time, the doors to the throne room fly open, and her guards leap forward at once, before relaxing. It is just Chan Li, looking utterly beside himself. "Azula," he gasps. "I heard - the guards said - they said that Zuko and the Avatar are here."  
  
"Not yet. They will be, shortly." Azula stands, glancing over Chan Li, toward the doors. She doesn't hear anything from outside the throne room. "You should be with Lan Min."  
  
"I'm not going to leave you," he insists. "I dropped Lan Min off with my parents in their rooms. The guards are posted outside and at the windows inside. She's safe there."   
  
Chan Li looks so wretched with worry that Azula takes pity on him and steps forward, embracing him. He hugs her tightly, and she can feel his heart hammering against his chest. "Everything is going to be all right," she tells him, when they pull apart.   
  
Her husband doesn't appear to share her conviction. He strokes her back with trembling hands. "I love you," he says. "No matter what happens. Don't fight an Agni Kai to the death, Azula. The throne isn't worth it. Don't - don't think that I don't have faith in you, but if it looks like Zuko is gaining the upper hand, just concede. I don't want you hurt, or worse."   
  
She takes his hand in her own. "Don't worry. Now come and stand in your place. We're going to have company soon."  
  
Chan Li swallows hard. Letting go of her is obviously difficult for him, but he does, taking his place to the right of her throne and slightly behind it. Azula sits down and breathes, marshaling her composure. Her destiny awaits.  
  
-  
  
Zuko tells Aang that it would be best to land Appa in the outdoor Agni Kai arena. "It's in a pretty remote area of the palace," he says. "The entrances there aren't guarded as strongly as the entrances on the roof, or in the gardens and courtyards."  
  
"Uh, Zuko," Sokka says, leaning over Appa's saddle and squinting through the small telescope he carries with him. "None of the entrances are guarded. I can't see any guards anywhere. The couple we saw on the roof earlier are gone too."   
  
"What?" Katara demands. "Is this some kind of a trap?"  
  
"How could it be?" Toph asks. "Azula didn't know we were coming."  
  
Mai feels Zuko tense beside her. "This isn't right," he says. "Night or day, the palace is never unguarded. But we can't turn around and go back. There's nowhere in the capital city for Appa to hide. We're sitting ducks."   
  
Aang, at the reins, turns and looks at him. "Do you want to risk a landing at the Agni Kai spot?"  
  
Zuko nods tersely. "We'll go for it. Everyone, be ready for an ambush. We'll probably have to fight our way into the throne room."  
  
"Everyone remembers the strategy, right?" Suki asks. "All of us fight every guard we see in order to leave a clear path for Zuko and Aang to head to the throne room."  
  
"Pretty straightforward," Mai mumbles. She hates the thought of being separated from him at this stage, but Suki is right. It's going to take every fighter they have to distract the guards and let Zuko even get to the throne room. Once they're there, Aang can use his airbending to blow away the guards posted outside the double doors and let Zuko enter the dragon's den.   
  
"Ready," Zuko agrees.  
  
Aang tugs on Appa's reins gently, and the bison swoops and circles downward. They're all holding their breath as the towers and spires of the palace come closer and closer, and then Appa's feet land on the ground, and--  
  
Nothing. No ambush. Just an ominous stillness in the morning air.   
  
"Don't let your guard down," Zuko breathes, as they dismount. They slide from Appa to the floor, trying to move as quietly as possible. Mai has a knife between each of her fingers before her feet hit the ground. "Good," Zuko says. "Now we need to--"  
  
He is cut off by Katara's gasp, and Toph clutches Mai's arm tightly.  
  
Seven guards emerge from the shadows near the palace entrance. But they don't leap and lunge out, flames blazing from their fists. They walk slowly, docile, arms hanging by their sides.   
  
"Prince Zuko," one of them calls, inclining his head. "Avatar Aang. Hold your fire. The Fire Lord sent us in peace."   
  
Mai can't see his face behind the helmet, but she feels a faint stirring of remembrance. _The old captain_ , she realizes. He's been the captain of Azula's guard since they were all children.   
  
"Peace?" Sokka whispers incredulously. "They're going to roast us alive. We can't just stand here."  
  
Zuko positions himself in front of the rest of the group, staring at the guards evenly. Mai can sense that he's ready to spring forward and protect them the moment it's necessary - but for now, he holds still. The guards have stopped at a safe distance in front of them, their posture still loose and non-threatening.   
  
"Fire Lord Azula has been expecting you," the captain says. Katara shudders with fear or hatred, and Mai feels her stomach plummet. "She has instructed us to escort you and your companions safely to the throne room."   
  
Zuko hesitates momentarily, taken aback. "How do I know that this isn't a trap?" he demands.   
  
"I assure you, on my honor as the captain of the royal guard, that the Fire Lord's invitation was genuine, as was her intention that you be given safe passage," the captain says stiffly. "She asked that you and your friends be treated as honored guests."  
  
"I don't like this," Sokka says, in an undertone. "We're supposed to walk in there with these guys at our backs? They'll incinerate us the moment our backs are turned."  
  
"But they're not lying," Toph whispers. Mai looks down and sees her bare feet twitching against the ground. "They're telling the truth. No sign of dishonesty."  
  
"Besides, we don't have a choice," Suki says. "How else is Zuko going to fight Azula? She won't come out here, even if he asks. It's a power thing. We're in her domain, and we have to play by her rules."   
  
Zuko's jaw clenches. "Fine," he says, to the guards. "I'll come with you. But you guys are all staying here," he adds fiercely, turning around and glaring at them. "I am not going to lead my friends into a trap."  
  
"No," Mai hisses. "We will not."   
  
"That's not how it works," Aang agrees, at once. "We go where you do."   
  
Katara nods. "If Toph is wrong and this is a trap, you have more of a chance of getting out alive if we're all there to back you up."  
  
Zuko's shoulders slump with frustration, but he finally nods in defeated agreement. Silently, they arrange themselves into formation - Zuko and Aang at the head of the group, Aang gripping his glider, Mai behind them, Katara and Toph behind her, and Sokka and Suki bringing up the rear. The royal guards don't close in behind them. Three lead the way, while two flank them loosely on either side.   
  
_You feel nothing_ , Mai tells herself, repeating her old mantra over and over again, as they enter the palace. She thinks of sheets of glass and still water and the flatness of a fine steel blade, and shades of stark black and white. _Nothing, nothing, nothing._  
  
It doesn't work as well as it should. Apprehension curls up tight at the pit of her stomach. The grand palace is empty, like a mausoleum, a cold, dead place. The nobility is nowhere to be seen, probably locked up safely in their expansive living quarters, and neither are the usual groups of guards that patrol the hallways. The only sound is that of their footsteps and their breathing.   
  
Too soon, the massive, elaborately carved double doors of the throne room loom before them. The guards normally posted in front of the doors stand aside upon seeing them, and despite her best efforts, Mai feels her breath catch in her throat and her step falter. She can't believe that she, who had always prioritized self-preservation above all else, is going to walk in there. What if everything goes wrong and she never walks out? Suddenly, she envies Ty Lee, far away from here in Ba Sing Se.  
  
But Ty Lee will be fighting too - the Fire Nation soldiers holding the city, rather than the Fire Nation guards here. And Mai steels herself as the guards push open the doors and lead them inside.  
  
Every muscle of her body is drawn tight with tension, ready to snap, and she enters the throne room and--  
  
Exhales. Regardless of what Toph said, she had expected to walk into an ambush, into an attack from every guard in the palace. But it is just the throne room, vast and expansive as she remembers, and mostly empty. The only thing different about it is that the dark room is filled with an eerie blue glow, now, and Mai summons her courage, lifts her head, and looks at the new Fire Lord - her old friend - for the first time in close to two years.   
  
She takes it all in in one brief glance. The flames are every bit as towering and strong as Ozai's had been. Mai remembers how Ozai had sat the throne, straight-backed, gripping the arms tightly. Azula lounges against the throne with the same ease that she had held the former Earth King's throne in Ba Sing Se. She looks entirely comfortable, a look of mild interest in her golden eyes. Worse, Mai realizes, she looks healthy. She's almost glowing. The Azula she remembers, in the weeks leading up to the Boiling Rock, had been on edge, constantly emanating tension. She hadn't been sleeping well, and she had been a little off balance. In contrast, this Azula radiates absolute poise.   
  
Despite her best efforts to stay calm, Mai can feel the dread wrapping around her like a shroud. Zuko had made a mistake in waiting to face her, giving her the chance to return to her old strength - or even surpass it. This doesn't bode well for him. But Zuko's face is a mask, revealing nothing of his thoughts.   
  
"Prince Zuko," the captain announces, once they approach the throne. They spread out shoulder-to-shoulder, facing the Fire Lord as one, and Mai draws strength from Zuko's presence on one side of her and Suki's on the other. "And Avatar Aang."   
  
"And friends, apparently," Azula says, in her cold, clear voice. Mai stands, frozen to the spot, as Azula's gaze slowly sweeps over them and lands on her. She remembers the last words she had spoken to her. _I love Zuko more than I fear you._   
  
But she doesn't see that burning hatred on Azula's face. For one split second, Mai sees confusion, and then she realizes. She had been counting them. Looking for Ty Lee.   
  
The realization affects her more than it should, and Mai averts her eyes. The only person in here besides them who isn't one of Azula's guards is a tall, broad-shouldered man who stands to the right of her throne, slightly behind it. He has a scar on his chin, and he wears plain clothes, but his red cloak is clasped with the gold flame pin worn by the Fire Nation royal family. Prince Chan Li, Mai assumes. He looks miserably tense and ready to use himself as a human shield for Azula at the slightest provocation. She will have to tell Ty Lee that.  
  
Zuko takes one step forward, under the watchful gazes of a dozen guards. "Azula," he calls, his voice ringing out, unfaltering. "It's time for the Fire Nation's reign of terror and oppression to end. The war needs to stop now, and the Fire Nation must retreat to its own borders and begin a new era of peace. I intend to make these changes."  
  
"Really," Azula replies, bored. "And how does the exiled prince plan to achieve such lofty ambitions?"  
  
Zuko's jaw clenches. "I formally challenge you to an Agni Kai. The winner will take the throne of the Fire Nation."  
  
The Azula that Mai remembers never shied away from a fight. She watches with bated breath and expects Azula to accept the challenge, in that self-assured way she has. _Fine. I'll destroy you._  
  
But Azula just tilts her head to the side and gives Zuko a long, measured look. The tense silence stretches for so long that it becomes painful. Mai can feel her heart racing, she can sense her friends' apprehension, and she has the feeling that this is going to go terribly wrong. They had counted on Azula to accept the challenge, since in the Fire Nation, the Fire Lord does not simply reject a formal challenge to an Agni Kai. It is a matter of honor. But if she decides to reject his challenge, because there are no witnesses - if she orders all of them imprisoned right now, or worse--  
  
It seems like the thought has occurred to Zuko as well. He glances left and right at his friends, and then steps forward, as if to protect them. "Or we don't have to fight," he says slowly, non-threateningly, summoning up all his courage. "If you step down, if you concede now, you and your family won't be harmed or imprisoned. I swear that to you. I'll release you, your husband, and your daughter to Prince Chan Li's family estates." He hesitates momentarily. "Or, if you prefer, you can remain at the palace as one of my advisors."  
  
Azula blinks, and to Mai's intense surprise, she doesn't react by showing the offense that any of them had expected. "I am the Fire Lord," she says. "I kneel to no one."  
  
Zuko's shoulders slump ever so slightly, and he opens his mouth to say something, probably to challenge her again--  
  
"But," Azula says, interrupting him. "I have a counter-proposal."   
  
Mai could hear a pin drop in the ensuing silence. Her friends glance at one another out of the corner of their eyes in confusion, while Zuko looks baffled.   
  
"What if…" Azula watches their reactions, sharp as a hawk. "What if I said that I would give you everything you want, without fighting an Agni Kai for it?"   
  
Zuko's eyes widen in shock, and Mai notices that Chan Li has the same reaction. _Everything you want_ , Mai thinks, numb. But there is no way Azula would give up the throne without a fight. This has to be a trap, or another one of the games she plays.   
  
"You're lying!" Katara bursts out, evidently following her train of thought, and Aang grabs her arm, alarmed.   
  
"Silence, peasant," Azula says disdainfully. "You should speak only when spoken to. Incidentally, I am not lying. I'm sure the blind earthbender could tell you that. I mean what I say, Zuko. You can have an end to the war, and you can have the throne." She smiles, the expression as pure as a spirit of benevolence. "One of them, at least."  
  
Zuko's lips move and no sound comes out. "What are you talking about?" he asks roughly.   
  
"Listen to me very carefully." Azula stands up. "It's a generous offer, arguably more than you deserve. We rule the Fire Nation together."   
  
Zuko stares, lost for words, the reflection of the wall of blue flames flickering in his eyes, and Mai fights the ridiculous desire to laugh. _Who are you?_ she wants to ask. _And what have you done with Azula?_  
  
"Why not?" Azula continues, answering the foremost question on all of their minds. "The same royal blood runs through both of our veins, after all. The blood of Avatar Roku and Fire Lord Sozin, through Ursa and Ozai. Neither of us like to admit it, but we're cut from the same cloth, you and I," she says, narrowing her eyes.  
  
"But can you…" Aang begins timidly. "Can you even do that?"  
  
"The Avatar is ignorant as well as a coward," Azula snaps. "Mai, enlighten him."  
  
Mai nearly jumps out of her skin, and only long years of practice prevents the shock of being addressed from bleeding through in her voice and body language. "It isn't unheard of. Siblings have ruled the Fire Nation together once in our nation's ancient history, though it hasn't happened since before Fire Lord Sozin's time," she recites, her mind racing. "Yozei and Reizei were the twin sons of Fire Lord Chozei. For years, the Fire Lord couldn't decide who to name as his heir, because he believed that both his sons were equally capable. Ultimately, before his death, Fire Lord Chozei decreed that after his time, Yozei and Reizei would rule together." Despite her best efforts, her voice shakes at the implications of what she is about to say. "Chozei said that his son Reizei had the brains to be the Fire Lord…but Yozei had the heart. Together, they could be the Fire Lord the nation deserved." Mai hesitates. "The brothers ruled together in peace for thirty-five years, before Yozei died of influenza."   
  
"Very good. The only reason you're challenging me is because you want an end to this war, correct? That's the only thing that concerns you?" Azula asks pointedly. "Well, you can have peace. If you accept my offer, you can order the end of the Hundred Year War yourself.  We will rule as equals and share the same title, as Yozei and Reizei did. You will not have seniority over me based on your firstborn status, and I will not have seniority over you based on the fact that I have held the throne longer. We can assume the traditional division of duties. You may oversee the Fire Nation's foreign relations, while my jurisdiction will be the nation's domestic affairs."   
  
Azula pauses, taking the stunned looks on their faces. "Or you can go ahead and challenge me to an Agni Kai. Then I will defeat you, and instead of being Fire Lord, you will have nothing."  
  
"You talk like it's a sure thing," Katara says, glaring at her. "Zuko might beat you and not have to share the throne with a violent lunatic."  
  
Azula goes very still, and Mai tries not to flinch. "He will not," the Fire Lord says, certainty heavy in her voice. "I am the most powerful firebender alive. There may have been a time when I was vulnerable and could have been defeated in combat, but that time has passed. I have my birthright to defend, and my daughter's." She looks down at them, her expression so cold her face could have been carved in ice. "A violent lunatic would have already crushed Zuko in the Agni Kai he challenged me to, and burned the rest of you alive. And yet here you all stand, alive and well."  
  
Utter silence falls over them. Zuko stares up at Azula, conflict written all over him, and she meets his gaze. "If it comes to a fight, I will defeat you," she says evenly. "I would be within my rights to execute you afterward, but I will show some mercy and merely imprison you in the black cells beneath the palace for the rest of your life. Mai and the Avatar will share your fate. I will execute the rest." She shrugs. "Or you could accept my offer, be crowned as Fire Lord within the week, and your friends will remain alive and be able to return to their homes. It's your decision."  
  
"Don't do it, Zuko," Katara whispers fiercely. "Don't let her use us as tools against you."  
  
Zuko looks at them, tormented. "I…" he says, and that is when Mai knows that Azula has won.   
  
"Why are you doing this?" Sokka shouts, pointing his boomerang at Azula, and Suki wrests it out of his hands before her guards attack him. "You hate Zuko! You've always been trying to ruin things for him, and now you suddenly turn around and want to give him everything that you've been spending your entire life making sure he doesn't have?"  
  
Azula grips the arms of her throne tightly. "I show all of you mercy, and you dare to question me?" she asks, tightly controlled fury in her voice. "Very well. You can have your answer. Ozai died right where you stand. Did you know that? I shot the bolt of lightning myself. It only took one. I watched as his body hit the floor and he convulsed and his heart stopped. I watched as my guards dragged his body out through the back door and mopped up the blood that dripped from his nose after the electrocution."  
  
Azula's voice had risen - despite her efforts, Mai thinks, echoing through the vast room - and everywhere she looks, she sees revulsion. Aang looks like he might be sick. Sokka and Suki had stepped back a few paces, staring at the floor. Katara is looking at Azula like she sees a monster. Even Toph, normally so unflappable, had leaned against her, shaken. And Zuko… Zuko just looks like he is about to cry.   
  
"I suppress the memories as well as I can, but I expect that it will haunt me for the rest of my life," Azula says flatly. "Just like I would feel if I left Zuko to rot in prison until he dies of sickness or old age. I would rather not be directly responsible for the death of half the family I was born into."   
  
The past two years have changed her, Mai realizes. Understandably so. She can hear the genuineness - and the bitterness - in Azula's voice. The Azula she remembers might have perished alongside Ozai…and the Fire Lord standing in front of her could be someone that Zuko might actually be able to work alongside. Despite everybody else's understandable reservations about Azula, she supports this. She supports anything that won't put Zuko at risk.   
  
"How can we trust you?" Suki asks. "It's… It's not that we don't appreciate your terms," she adds hastily. "It's just that we've been enemies for so long. I'm sure you would be just as wary if you were in our place."  
  
"True," Azula allows. "I swear that everything I have said to you is true, and that my intentions are what they appear," she says deliberately, and the wall of flames behind her surges higher. "I swear it on my honor, on my life, and on the lives of my husband and my infant daughter." She scowls down at them. "Is that good enough for you?"   
  
Zuko swallows silently, and Mai sees her friends stare up at Azula, their faces ashen. She means it. Maybe none of them had really believed it until this moment. But she really means it, and this changes everything. The fate of the world, and the path of the Fire Nation.  
  
"Yes," Zuko whispers, breaking his long silence, his voice hoarse, and they all turn to him. "It is."   
  
The Fire Lord looks at him, as if unsure how to react, and he clears his throat. "You won't change your mind?" he asks stiffly. "You're sure about this."  
  
Azula rolls her eyes, a glimpse of her old self resurfacing. "Isn't it clear that I have been thinking this through for months?" she asks sharply. "My mind was made up a long time ago. Of course I'm sure about this."   
  
"Okay. But I have another question," Zuko persists. "About…the succession." He gestures awkwardly. "You have a daughter. Lan Min. I might have a child too, someday. Who would inherit the throne? Unless…"   
  
Azula shrugs. "Our firstborn heirs can rule as equals alongside one another, just as you and I will. I expect that Lan Min will be older than your heir by a couple of years or so, but assuming we both live long lives, that shouldn't matter."  
  
Zuko takes a deep breath. "All right," he says. He looks at them anxiously, and then at Azula. "May I have a few minutes outside to consult with my allies regarding this decision?"  
  
"Very well," Azula replies, apparently unconcerned. "If concerning yourself with the opinions of outsiders is the precedent you want to set for your tenure as Fire Lord, then that is your prerogative. Captain Kang, please accompany my brother and his friends to the hallway."  
  
The guards lead them out. Before they leave, Mai glances back and sees Chan Li gently touch Azula on the shoulder. Azula turns to him and they exchange a look, communicating wordlessly, just as she and Zuko do.  
  
"You have ten minutes," the captain of the guard tells them gruffly, once the doors of the throne room swing shut behind them. He nods at Zuko, as if unsure whether to bow, and retreats to a safe distance, though he keeps a watchful eye on them.  
  
"What do you think?" Suki asks Toph at once. "I know you've been honing that lie-detector thing you do."  
  
"She was telling the truth," Toph says. "I knew that much even before she swore on her kid's life. Besides, I figure that even Azula wouldn't break a vow like that."   
  
Katara paces in a tight, nervous circle, her arms folded across her chest. "I still don't like this," she says. "How long is this new, sane Azula going to last? What happens next time she has a crazy mental break? Zuko, aren't you worried about having to work alongside her?"   
  
Toph shakes her head. "I'm not sure that there is going to be a next time. Her feet feel more firmly planted on the ground now. She's a lot steadier than she used to be."  
  
Mai bites the inside of her cheek. If Ty Lee were here, she would say that Azula's aura has changed. Even she can feel it. There had been a brittle quality to Azula before that is absent now.   
  
Zuko frowns. "No matter what happens, Azula won't have power over foreign relations," he says, after a few moments. "Our domains won't overlap much, so no, I'm not too worried about having to share the throne with her." He looks at Aang. "What do you think?"  
  
"You know me," Aang says quietly. "I always support a nonviolent resolution. This is truly everything we could have ever asked for. And I think Azula touched on something important when she said that you and she are more similar than different. You're both descendants of Avatar Roku and Fire Lord Sozin, and you both underwent deep moral conflict. You found resolution to your inner conflict between right and wrong when you joined us, and I think this is her finding a resolution to her conflict, too. Making the right decision, and choosing the right path."   
  
"She's deliberately trying to distance herself from Ozai," Zuko murmurs. "Agreeing to end the war, when she once wanted total Fire Nation domination and to burn the Earth Kingdom down, choosing negotiation and trying to find a peaceful resolution over combat, agreeing to share power with a sibling…"   
  
Sokka heaves a sigh. "Look," he says, glancing at Katara. "You know I'm wary of Azula too, but I think I'm going with Aang and Zuko on this. For different reasons, though. Sure, I'd rather have Zuko ruling the Fire Nation alone. But if through some freak fluke, Zuko lost the Agni Kai…" His voice cracks. "I don't want Zuko and Aang and Mai imprisoned for the rest of their lives. And I can't watch you, Suki, and Toph be executed. It's a chance that I'm just not willing to take. I can't."  
  
Suki takes his hand in hers. "I'm with you," she says.   
  
Mai inclines her head. "I agree. It would be stupid to take that risk. Zuko and Azula are evenly matched in terms of skill, and there's no telling which way the fight could go. If Zuko wins, we get everything Azula is giving us anyway. If Azula wins, more than half of us are dead. She's not bluffing on that part of her terms."   
  
"Sorry, Katara, but I think that I'm on their team," Toph says, punching her in the shoulder. "I want to walk out of here. And I know you do too. Remember, your dad is waiting for you and Sokka in Ba Sing Se. He wants you guys to come back safe. It's not worth taking chances with that."  
  
Katara's shoulders slump at the mention of her father, and all the fight goes out of her. "No," she whispers, after several moments. "It's not."  
  
They stand in a silent circle for a few moments, lost in their own thoughts, taking it in. The one outcome that none of them had expected when they woke up this morning. Finally, Zuko reaches out, taking Mai's hand in his right, and Aang's in his left. Mai reaches to Toph, Aang to Katara, Toph to Suki, Katara to Sokka. "Thank you for standing with me on this," Zuko says softly. "I love you guys."  
  
Aang smiles at him. "We wish you the best, Fire Lord. Now maybe you should go in there and make it official."   
  
Zuko takes a deep breath, and Mai can see that it is like the weight of the world has lifted off his shoulders. The sight makes her want to smile. "Captain," Zuko calls, turning back to the guards. "I'm ready to see my sister."   
  
The guards lead them back inside, and Mai sees that they're not alone. Three Fire Sages have entered the throne room in their absence. Two hold ceremonial cherry-wood boxes, and the third is absorbed in paperwork. Azula looks down at the third Fire Sage, supervising his work, but she turns to them at their return. "Well?" she asks sharply.  
  
Zuko inclines his head. "We accept your terms," he replies simply. "Thank you, Azula."  
  
Azula looks as though she is unsure of whether to smile or not. "You have made the right decision," she says, and Mai thinks she hears relief in her voice.   
  
The Fire Sages approach them, and Azula glances over her shoulder at Chan Li, before proceeding down the stairs toward them, her boots clicking on the marble floors. Mai hears Toph's quick intake of breath, and she feels the collective strength of will it takes for none of them to take an instinctive step back. Regardless of what has happened today, she has the feeling that it is going to take a long time before any of them can see Azula as something besides the most dangerous and fearsome enemy they have ever faced.   
  
Azula comes to stand just a few feet in front of them, Chan Li at her right side, the three Fire Stages standing in between both groups. It is strange, being this close to her - a friend she used to embrace without a second thought, and the person who had been prepared to strike her down with her lightning - for the first time in so long. Mai wonders if Azula feels it too.   
  
One of the Fire Sages bows deeply. "The declaration you ordered, Fire Lord," he says, unrolling the scroll and presenting it to both sides. Mai can read the writing, the strong, bold characters, but the sage reads it aloud anyway. "The document orders the immediate end of the Hundred-Year War. All combat operations will be ceased, followed by the subsequent withdrawal of Fire Nation troops from the Fire Nation-controlled Earth Kingdom colonies."  
  
Zuko looks at Aang and the rest of the group for approval, and then nods. The Fire Sage continues. "The document concludes in stating that Prince Zuko's exile has been lifted and he is reinstated to his former royal title. Prince Zuko will be crowned Fire Lord, ruling the realm jointly with Fire Lord Azula, as equals. Fire Lord Zuko will determine the Fire Nation's foreign policy, while Fire Lord Azula will rule over the domestic policy of the Fire Nation." The sage pauses, looking to Azula, and then Zuko. "Is this to your satisfaction?"  
  
"It is," both of them respond steadily, at once, and then they give each other somewhat startled looks. Mai stifles the uncharacteristic and inappropriate urge to dissolve into laughter. Zuko and Azula, ruling the Fire Nation together. Even in her wildest dreams, she couldn't have imagined this.   
  
The Fire Sage clears his throat. "Very well, then. You will need to sign. Who will bear witness?"   
  
"Mai," Zuko says softly, indicating that she should join him at his right side, mirroring the way Chan Li stands next to Azula. The official position of the royal consort. Mai's throat tightens, and she steps into place beside him. This will be her place in truth, one day. As strange as the thought is, the four of them will be family, in a sense. She and Azula will be sisters. Their children will play together, and one day, they will rule together.   
  
"Avatar, step forward," Azula commands in her imperious way, taking them all by surprise. "And you as well, Toph Beifong. A noble-born representative from the Earth Kingdom, and the Avatar, should be suitable witnesses."  
  
Toph and Aang join them, looking alarmed by the summons. "We should have someone from the Water Tribe too, then," Zuko says, turning toward Katara and Sokka. "To make sure that representatives from all four nations stand witness as we sign the peace treaty."  
  
Azula balks. "If that princess from the Northern Water Tribe was still alive, she would be an acceptable representative, but these are mere peasants."  
  
"Sokka and Katara's dad is the chief of the Southern Water Tribe," Aang points out at once. "So they're royalty too, kind of!"  
  
Azula glares daggers at Sokka and Katara, both of whom return her look with equal loathing. "Fine," she says. "You with the boomerang, come here."  
  
Sokka shuffles forward reluctantly, and the other Fire Sages bow deeply, opening the ceremonial boxes as they do. One box holds a brush and a pot of ink, and the other has a ceremonial dagger nestled inside. Wordlessly, Azula indicates that Zuko should take the brush first.  
  
He takes a deep breath, dips the brush in the ink, reads the document again. There is an expectant hush in the air. Zuko signs his name, and then takes the ceremonial dagger with its razor-sharp point and ruby-encrusted hilt. He slices the dagger across the pad of his thumb, and when the blood bubbles up, he holds his finger above the scroll. The droplet of blood falls underneath his name. "On my honor," is all he says, his voice echoing around the throne room.  
  
Azula takes the brush next, and Mai is holding her breath - she thinks they all are - as the Fire Lord signs her name to the treaty that will finally bring peace to the world. She takes the dagger and slices into her thumb impassively, the same way Zuko had, letting the droplet of blood fall underneath her name. The tiny crimson stains are identical, and Mai remembers what Azula had said. _The same blood runs through both our veins._   
  
"It is so ordered," Azula says, pulling her hand back, and the sages roll up the scroll and bow deeply to her.   
  
"Fire Lord," they say respectfully, and then they turn to Zuko and bow to him as well. "Fire Lord."  
  
Zuko looks stunned to be addressed that way, after so long, but he nods belatedly and mumbles his thanks. The sages retreat, stepping back a few paces, and it is stupid that it hasn't hit her until now, but Mai has never really seen it until now, with both Zuko and Azula standing so close to one another…and not fighting or sniping at each other, for once, or staring at each other with distrust. They even look alike. They have the same eyes, the same hair, a distinct facial resemblance. Mai had always thought that Zuko looked so much softer and kinder than Azula, but now she sees that they don't look so different after all.   
  
Maybe the same thoughts are running through Zuko's mind, because, after the briefest tremor of hesitation, he reaches out, extending a hand to Azula. She stares at him for a moment, and then exhales, and it's one of the strangest things Mai has ever seen, but it's like a look of peace, or realization, comes over her. She almost smiles, and she reaches out and takes his hand.  
  
And nothing terrible happens. Neither of them launch a violent surprise attack on the other. The ground doesn't split open underneath their feet, and Mai is certain that leopard-pigs aren't flying around outside.   
  
Actually, Azula just says, matter-of-factly, "We're going to have to unearth the other throne from storage underneath the palace. Oh, and you should see about finding yourself some personal guards. I am willing to lend you four of my own, but only for a week."   
  
Mai closes her eyes for a brief moment, Zuko's earlier words lingering in her mind.   
  
A new era of peace.  
  
-  
  
 _to be continued_  
  
-  
  
As always, thank you for your patience in waiting for this new chapter, and thank you for reading. :)   
  
I hope that readers don't feel too let down by the lack of an explosive Agni Kai, similar to the one we saw in canon, but this peaceful reconciliation was always the ending I envisioned for Zuko and Azula. Both of them have suffered enough due to a horrible family situation, and were needlessly and unjustifiably turned against each other at such a young age when they would have been stronger together and been able to support each other. I didn't have this in mind when I started to write, but this story has become partially about breaking the cycle of abuse, and I feel like Zuko and Azula choosing to reconcile now, as adults, is an important and life-changing step in breaking away from the way their father poisoned their relationship and manipulated them. Ozai's toxic legacy will not live on in his children.  
  
I expect that the story will wrap up in a few more chapters. Thank you to everyone who has been following it for so long.   
  



	33. Part 33

"So," Aang begins, a little nervously. "What now?"  
  
"We will make arrangements for the coronation to take place at the end of the week. First, though, we address the entire court," Azula says, without missing a beat. "Zuko, think of something clever to say after I announce our reconciliation and inform them of the new regime."  
  
"Will you want to summon the press, Fire Lord?" Captain Kang asks.  
  
Azula considers it briefly. "No. It will take too long to send a message to the newspaper offices and wait for them to arrive. We will have the palace issue a formal statement after the address."  
  
"When is this going to happen?" Zuko asks, patting the collar of his shirt nervously.  
  
Azula frowns. "After you change out of those peasant clothes and make yourself more presentable. Captain, please order the full company of guards to announce that everybody in the palace should gather in the main courtyard in two hours' time. Lieutenant Fang, go to the office of the royal outfitter in the west wing and order her to find another royal hairpiece and robes suitable for a prince. Tell her to keep in mind that Zuko is taller now than he used to be."   
  
The guards bow deeply and leave, and Azula eyes Zuko's friends with faint disgust. "As for all of you… Well, there's nothing that can be done to make you look any better. Zuko, you can take them to the Zhan banquet hall. I will order the servants to provide refreshments and prepare the guest suites on the Xiong wing for occupancy. Lieutenant Fang will retrieve you when the royal outfitter is ready for you."  
  
"Thank you," Zuko says. Suki nods at her, and Azula inclines her head a fraction of an inch. She pretends not to notice the weight of Mai's eyes on her.   
  
Emboldened, Aang grins and bows. "Yeah, thank you so much, Fire--"  
  
Azula gives him such a venomous glare that he wilts and shuffles away without another word. Sokka, Katara, and Toph fix her with distrustful stares and follow after him, and she watches the ragtag little group go. "Ugh," she says, pressing her fingertips to her temples. "I cannot believe the riffraff that I allow in here nowadays." She smirks, an idea suddenly occurring to her. "But what _would_ Ozai say if he knew that the Avatar had gone from an enemy of the state to a lunch guest in one day?"  
  
She is interrupted from the delightful thought by Chan Li pouncing on her and hugging her tightly. "Azula," he says, his voice muffled by her hair, sounding quite overcome.   
  
Her face is squished against the folds of his cloak, but she can't help but smile slightly nevertheless. "Yes?"  
  
Chan Li takes her by the shoulders, looking at her in awe. "You - you - I don't know what to say," he stammers. "Every time I suggested that you and Zuko might reconcile, you dismissed it, and the whole time, you were thinking about this? You should have told me."  
  
Azula reaches up, placing a gentle hand against his cheek. "I know. I was tempted to. I didn't want to say anything because I wasn't sure that my plan would work. I thought that it would, but if my calculations turned out to be incorrect…"   
  
Chan Li nods. "It was a big risk."  
  
"You have no idea. You have to understand that I was bargaining on Zuko having changed in these past two years as much as I have. The Zuko I remember would never have agreed to this compromise." She shrugs, looking unsure of how to feel. "I suspect that his feelings toward me have softened, which was a major factor contributing to his acceptance of the deal. Zuko has always thought more with his heart than his head, after all."   
  
"Either way," he says, taking her hands. "I'm so, _so_ proud of you. The Azula I met two years ago would have never been willing to do something like this. You were always an intelligent and decisive ruler, but you've grown into an even better person."  
  
Azula feels a blush creep up her neck and onto her face. "Well," she says, a little flustered. "I never thought I would hear anybody say that about me."  
  
She stands on the tips of her toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Just then, though, she hears movement at the doors to the throne room and an embarrassed cough, and Azula turns sharply. Zuko is standing near the entrance, hand lifted in an awkward wave. "Hi," he says, his face a brilliant shade of red. "Sorry for interrupting. I, uh, I just wanted to ask you something really quickly, if that's okay."  
  
Azula frowns. "Wait. Did you leave the rest of your little brigade in the banquet hall unattended?" she asks, in a tone that would suggest that she is discussing a pack of rabid spider-wolves rather than six teenagers.  
  
"Yeah, but don't worry. They're not totally uncivilized." He pauses. "Well…Katara, Suki, and Mai are fine, anyway."  
  
"You're responsible for any damages," Azula says primly. "Anyway, you can come closer. There's no need for us to be shouting across the throne room like this. I don't bite."  
  
Zuko approaches somewhat timidly, and bows to Chan Li. "It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Prince Chan Li."  
  
Her husband bows in return. "The honor is mine, Prince Zuko. Or - Fire Lord Zuko, I'm sorry."  
  
"Just Zuko is fine," Zuko says hastily.  
  
"All right, Just Zuko," Chan Li says, smiling in the way he always does when he delivers a particularly bad joke. "You can call me Chan Li. There's no need for the formality."  
  
Zuko laughs, and Azula cringes at how insufferable it all is. "What did you want to ask that couldn't wait until after our statement to the court?" she asks.  
  
"I'm sorry if I'm cutting into your preparation time or anything." Zuko looks down at his hands uncomfortably. "I just - I've been thinking about this for almost a year, and I couldn't wait any longer. It's really been getting to me."   
  
"I can go," Chan Li says, taking a step back. "I don't want to intrude. I should check on Lan Min."  
  
"We'll go over there together in a minute," Azula says. "You're not intruding. We're all family here, after all. Whatever has been weighing on your mind for so long, Zuko?"  
  
Zuko fidgets. "I…" He takes a deep breath, marshaling his courage, before blurting it out. "I wondered if Ozai said anything to you, before - you know. About our mother."  
  
Azula exhales, and for a few moments, a heavy silence hangs over them. "I should have guessed that was it," she says, before looking at him evenly. "He didn't say anything. And the truth is, it didn't even occur to me to ask. For years, I've just assumed that she was dead."   
  
"I know," Zuko says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Mai said that too. But I just…I have the feeling that she's out there somewhere. What about his stuff, everything that was in his private quarters?" he presses. "If he had sent our mother into exile, there could have been a clue to her location hidden somewhere in his papers, maybe even written inside his books."  
  
Azula shakes her head, looking at him with something like pity in her eyes. "The members of Chan Li's intelligence department combed through everything, in case he had written down any further plots against my life," she says. "Every page of correspondence he saved, every scroll in his office and his quarters, every page in his books. They checked every single piece of his furniture and the walls for secret compartments."  
  
"They didn't find anything?" Zuko asks, his shoulders sagging.  
  
"Oh, they found a lot of information. But nothing that could possibly relate to our mother." Azula pauses. "I'm sorry," she says stiffly.  
  
Zuko shrugs, looking down at the floor. "It's okay," he replies automatically. "It's just that - I know it was stupid to hope, but I thought…"  
  
He trails off, and Azula gives him a long look. "Zuko," she says, and there's something in her tone that makes him glance up at her. "If she is alive, if she was sent into exile after all, I have no doubt that you will see her soon."  
  
Zuko's eyes widen. "What? What makes you say that?"  
  
"You're back, aren't you?" Azula asks, the expression on her face unreadable. "It will be all over the papers tomorrow. If she's alive, I expect that she will return to the capital at once, after she sees the news."   
  
The implication of her words make Chan Li flinch, and Zuko looks startled. "Azula…" he says.   
  
"No," she replies, looking first at him, and then at her husband. "I don't want to hear it."  
  
They remain quiet, respectful of her wishes. Finally, Zuko clears his throat. "I know this is late, but congratulations on your daughter," he says. "Lan Min."   
  
"Thank you," Chan Li says. "You can come visit her if you want, after you've settled in."   
  
Azula sniffs. "It is late. You couldn't have taken a short break from rebellion and revolution to send a card? I'm sure you knew I was expecting."  
  
Zuko blushes again. "I thought about it," he mumbles defensively. "But then I thought that the army would be able to trace our location from what town I posted it from, so I didn't."  
  
"I was joking," Azula says, with a smirk. "But thank you for providing me with the amusing mental image of you shopping for a card and struggling over what to write."  
  
Zuko heaves a defeated sigh. "I'm just going to go eat lunch now."  
  
"Yes, please go and prevent the band of peasants from smearing soup on the walls."  
  
Zuko rolls his eyes and turns to leave, but then he stops and turns back to face her. "Thanks," he says quietly.  
  
"For what?" Azula asks, nonplussed. "Mocking your friends?"  
  
"No. For what you did. With Ozai." His voice trembles a little. "He was evil, and you did the right thing. Aang couldn't do it two years ago, and I don't think I could have either."   
  
Azula studies him, and only the set of her shoulders betrays how shaken she is. She looks like she wants to speak, but when she opens her mouth, no words come out. "I ordered his body dumped in the ocean," she manages, at last. "Not his ashes. His body. One of the Fire Sages said it was sacrilege. I didn't want him in the crypt of the royal family. When we die, he'll be nowhere near us. We're free of him."  
  
Zuko nods, in one jerky movement, and blinks hard. "Good."  
  
"I am sorry," Azula says, averting her eyes. "About your face. I should never have mocked you for it."   
  
From the expression on Zuko's face, Chan Li gathers that she has never said this before.   
  
"Now, go eat lunch," Azula orders. "And for the spirits' sake, don't start crying. I abhor unnecessary sentimentality."  
  
Zuko smiles at her, unfazed. "I'll see you later."   
  
When he's gone, the heavy double doors of the throne room slamming shut behind him, Chan Li wraps an arm around her shoulders. "I'm so happy for you," he says, quite emotionally. "This is the best thing that could have happened. You have your brother back."  
  
"Did you miss what I just said about sentimentality?"   
  
There's the smallest of smiles on her face, though, and Chan Li leans down and kisses the top of her head. Azula takes his hand and leads him out of the throne room, to see their daughter.  
  
-  
  
Following Azula's decree, the entire royal court gathers in the main courtyard an hour past noon. From her position in the shadows, standing to the side of the balcony where Azula and Zuko will make their speeches, Mai counts over two hundred people in attendance. There are lords and ladies - members of Azula's various councils and their wives and children - and Fire Sages, high-ranking military officials, the intelligence division, the palace guards, visiting representatives from outlying regions of the Fire Nation, and the entire palace support staff, from stewards to secretaries to clothing outfitters and healers.   
  
When Azula steps onto the balcony, after her introduction and the reading of her royal titles, and addresses the massive crowd, Mai sees the apprehension on their faces. The last time the entire palace was summoned like this was for Ozai's execution. This time, they clearly expect Azula to do something like haul Zuko's decapitated corpse out from the shadows and stomp on it.  
  
When she invites Zuko to join her, and he steps out onto the balcony, dressed in full royal regalia, the onlookers can't hold back their gasps of shock. They stand side by side as Azula smoothly announces the agreement, as if this isn't news that will rock the entire nation; as if the last time siblings ruled the Fire Nation together wasn't more than two hundred years ago.  
  
Mai listens, a little bitter but entirely unsurprised by the poise with which Azula handles this. It is entirely unsurprising that Azula paints herself as the benevolent sister and ruler who has graciously reconciled with her formerly estranged brother and allowed him to play a role in governing the nation that they are both dedicated to serving.   
  
"Zuko and I have been separated for too long," Azula says magnanimously, at one point. In the shadows, safely out of sight, Toph mimes throwing up, and Sokka has to press his hand over his mouth to keep from bursting into laughter. "It is clear to us now that we are stronger together than apart."   
  
She pauses momentarily, letting it sink in. "We have come to a mutual agreement that the continuation of the Hundred Year War is no longer the best path for the Fire Nation," Azula states matter-of-factly. "As of this morning, the war has come to an end, by my order."  
  
 _As if saying she had reconciled with Zuko wasn't enough of a bombshell_ , Mai thinks. Predictably enough, this news triggers an outbreak of low-grade chaos. After tolerating the exclamations and shouted questions for a minute or so, Azula just places her hands on the railing and gives her court a scathing look. After a few moments of uneasy muttering, silence falls.  
  
"Economically speaking, this is the best decision for the Fire Nation," the Fire Lord says, in her clear, sharp voice. "Tens of thousands of pounds of gold are expended in our military endeavors every year. We have spent millions of pounds of gold on this war since it began a century ago. It would benefit the people of the nation if this revenue was directed to other areas - namely the development of rural areas, as well as improving public health, infrastructure, and education." Azula glares around at the crowd, as if daring anyone to speak out in disagreement. "Careful analysis has revealed that the loss of national revenue from taxation of the Earth Kingdom territories will be offset by the revenue saved by ending military operations outside the Fire Nation. We will not suffer economically from ending this war," she stresses. "In fact, for the first time in fifty years, the Fire Nation can prosper. The country can run on a true surplus rather than a deficit. Furthermore, without a war to fund, tax rates for individuals and families of all income levels can return to under ten to twelve percent within the next year."  
  
 _There it is_ , Mai thinks wryly. The magic words that are enough to make even the most loyal Fire Nation citizens forget about their precious nationalism and imperialism. Suddenly, the court looks less agitated, as everybody becomes immersed in silently calculating how much money they're going to save.   
  
"Prince Zuko's coronation will take place at the end of this week," Azula says. "All council meetings will resume tomorrow morning. Both of us will be in attendance to answer any questions that our councilors may have." She nods politely at Zuko. "Would you like to address the court?"  
  
"Yes, thank you." Zuko's tone is confident, betraying none of the nervousness he must feel. His delivery of the short but powerful address he had practiced with her throughout lunch is flawless, and Mai isn't just being biased. As much as she hates to admit it, Azula is a great speaker, and despite his lack of experience, Zuko can hold his own beside her.   
  
He is going to be an amazing Fire Lord. Mai has never doubted that, but seeing him speak to the court like this drives the realization home, and pride makes her feel uncharacteristically warm and happy inside. She barely pays attention to the way Azula concludes the address, resting her hands on the railing and looking down at her subjects. "Our glorious country will no longer waste its precious financial resources and human capital in attempting to show the rest of the world our greatness. Together, Zuko and I will lead the Fire Nation into a new era of unprecedented advancement and prosperity," she says, radiating with the fanatical devotion that Mai remembers so well.   
  
" _Showing the rest of the world our greatness_?" Katara whispers, her lips twisting angrily. "Is that what she calls genocide? I can't believe her. I hate that she's standing up there with Zuko."  
  
She is drowned out by the applause from the crowd, and Aang touches Katara on the arm. "I know it's not ideal, but we have to focus on the fact that with Zuko ruling over the Fire Nation's foreign policy and its relations with the rest of the world, the monstrosities that took place over the past century will never happen again."  
  
Azula sweeps off with her husband after the address, and Zuko rejoins their group. "How did I do?" he asks, exhilarated.  
  
Mai takes his hand. "You were okay." Zuko beams, and she knows he understands that _okay_ meant _perfect_. The others hug him and pat him on the back in congratulations, and Toph gives him a punch to the arm that almost sends him flying.   
  
"What's going on now?" Sokka asks, as the guards escort them back into the palace. "Do you think that the battle for Ba Sing Se is already over? The White Lotus planned for it to be a strong, fast takeover."  
  
"Before the speech, Azula sent a message by airship instructing the Fire Nation forces in Ba Sing Se to stand down," Zuko says. He can't hold back a grin. "She looked like she was choking on a lemon."  
  
"It'll take a Fire Nation airship a few hours to reach Ba Sing Se, at least," Suki replies. "If the White Lotus has already sent an airship with a message saying that they've taken Ba Sing Se, the airships might pass each other en route. Either way, we won't know for a couple of hours."  
  
"I have complete faith in the White Lotus and their army," Zuko says confidently. "I'm sure they would have liberated Ba Sing Se."  
  
Sokka scratches his chin. "Your coronation is at the end of the week, but work for you starts tomorrow, right?"  
  
"Yeah." Zuko winces. "I'm pretty nervous about it. I want you guys to be there, as representatives from the other nations. Azula won't be happy about it, but I doubt she'll kick you out."   
  
"So there's only one thing for us to do today," Sokka pronounces, looking at all of them with an expression of utmost seriousness on his face. "We have to celebrate."  
  
They make their way to their guest suite in the Xiong wing, as Mai explains to the non-Fire Nation citizens that this is the wing of the palace that is rumored to be haunted by the vengeful spirit of a monkey-bear. Despite that, Aang's room is surprisingly nice, befitting an Avatar. They pile onto the massive bed and talk about the future until Mai's throat hurts a little, and when one of the servants comes in to check on them and politely ask if they need anything, Toph requests all the desserts and sweets currently in the palace kitchens.   
  
An hour after the five trays of desserts arrive, as they're all lying around in a pleasant daze brought on by a sugar coma, there is a knock on the door. Zuko leaps up from the armchair, hastily brushes powdered sugar off the front of his robes, and heads for the door. Mai sets aside her bowl of fruit pudding, suddenly alert.   
  
It's a palace messenger, who bows deeply as Zuko opens the door. "I have word from the Fire Lord, Prince Zuko," he says. "She just received a communication from Ba Sing Se. Fire Nation forces in the city received her earlier message and have stepped aside, releasing control of the city to General Iroh's liberation forces."  
  
Zuko's lips twitch, and Mai can see that it takes an effort for him to maintain his composure. "Thank you," he says formally. "Please tell the Fire Lord that I appreciate her prompt conveyance of this message."  
  
The messenger bows again and retreats, and Zuko closes the door and turns to them. The room breaks out in cheers, and Mai allows herself to be swept into a group hug. For the first time, she realizes that she will miss Toph, Sokka, Aang, and Suki when they leave. She might even miss Katara a little bit.   
  
The combination of euphoria over the victory and the sugar coma should have kept them energized for a while, she thinks, but the good news out of Ba Sing Se proves too much. It's been a long, exhausting, surprising, wild ride of a day. Katara falls asleep first, leaning against Aang's shoulder, in the middle of a conversation about what Uncle Iroh must think of Zuko and Azula's reconciliation. Sokka and Suki follow, propped up against the headboard of the bed. Toph surrenders to sleep too, slumping onto Katara's lap and snoring uproariously.   
  
Aang and Zuko are still awake, conversing quietly about what's next for the Earth Kingdom. This conversation would be of some interest to her normally, but Mai can't quite take it in now. A nap sounds nice, but there isn't any room on the bed, and curling up on the chairs in the sitting room will leave her with a crick in her neck later.  
  
Mai touches Zuko on the hand. "I'll be back in about an hour," she says. "I'm going to my room to rest for a while."  
  
He kisses her on the cheek, and she can't help smiling back at him. Her guest suite is just down the hall, and Mai is pleased to see that it looks as large and luxurious as Aang's. She removes her slippers by the door and approaches the bed, staring down at it. This whole day has had a surreal, dream-like quality to it. It might be days before what has happened today even starts to sink in.  
  
Mai is just about to climb into bed when she feels an unmistakable prick of foreboding, making a shiver run down her spine. It feels like she is being watched. Another person might have dismissed the feeling, but her instincts are never wrong.   
  
Exhaustion forgotten, she tenses up, casually tucking her hands inside her long sleeves, and then whirls around in one lightning-quick motion, gripping four long, thin knives between her fingers. "Come out and face me," she orders, scanning the room. Her voice betrays no fear. "I know you're here."   
  
"I doubt it."  
  
The vaguely amused-sounding voice is the last one she had expected, and Azula emerges from the sitting room, holding her baby against her shoulder.   
  
The shock hits her hard, sending numbness down her arm. Mai freezes, her mind racing, and an uncharacteristic rush of panic surges through her. On one hand, Azula - who had once tried to shoot lightning at her and kill her - has just ambushed her alone in her room. She needs to be armed, as she has no idea what retribution Azula wants to visit on her. On the other hand, Azula is the Fire Lord, and she and Zuko are allies now, so she can't just threaten her like this.  Perhaps most importantly, she's holding a three-month-old infant in her arms, and pointing knives at the crown princess could be punished by death. Besides, she doesn't have the stomach to brandish a weapon at Zuko's niece, and Azula's daughter.   
  
Was this some sort of a ploy? Was Azula using the baby as a shield in order to lure her into a defenseless state? Mai feels sick. Moving slowly, deliberately nonthreatening, she tucks the knives back into the holsters in her sleeves and holds her hands up.   
  
"Thank you," Azula says calmly. If she feels rattled at all by this reunion, she doesn't show it. "There will be no need for those. I come in peace."  
  
"Really," Mai says, her voice tight. Regardless of what happened in the throne room earlier today, it will take a long time before she can even think of the words _peace_ and _Azula_ in the same sentence.  
  
Azula inclines her head. "That is why I brought Lan Min. As a gesture of goodwill. You don't need to worry - even I can't firebend with my hands full. Besides, it'll be another eleven or twelve years before I show her how to deal with traitors."    
  
Mai stiffens, and to her surprise, Azula smiles, a trace of mockery in it. "Relax, Mai. It was a joke. Has spending so much time with Zuko ruined your sense of humor?"  
  
"You tried to kill me at the Boiling Rock," Mai retorts, struggling to keep her voice low and even. "Forgive me if I'm not prepared to joke with you."  
  
Azula's eyebrows shoot up. Her composure slips momentarily, and she looks like she isn't sure whether to be offended or startled. "My intention wasn't to kill you," she says, after a few moments.  
  
Mai crosses her arms over her chest. "You could have fooled me," she retorts. "I saw your fingers. You were getting ready to shoot lighting." _Ty Lee saw it too, and that was why she interceded._   
  
Azula closes her eyes momentarily, obviously, involuntarily revisiting that afternoon. Just as Mai is. It's like they're transported back in time, standing on that rock ledge again, the sun beating down on their backs, adrenaline coursing through their veins.   
  
"I wanted to punish you," Azula says deliberately. "I wanted to teach you a lesson. I wanted to make you realize what a mistake you had just made in crossing me, and then I was going to have you arrested and thrown into prison. I was not going to kill you." She meets Mai's eyes squarely, but then she looks away, disgusted. "You and Ty Lee thought so little of me."  
  
Mai sighs, feeling the headache growing behind her eyes. All she had wanted when she came here was a nap. "Azula…" she begins. "I'm not going to apologize. None of us had time to think. Everything happened in a matter of seconds. As far as I knew, as soon as I let Zuko escape, I became your enemy. You've always been ruthless with your enemies. And this was even more personal, because we were friends."  
  
"Were we?" Azula snaps, in a sudden show of temper, and the baby gives a tiny, startled cry. " _I love Zuko more than I fear you_ , you said. Did you ever think of me as a friend at all, for all those years, or was it all a ruse? Were your parents the ones who wanted you to get close to me, or did you just befriend me to get closer to Zuko? Were you too afraid of me to end the pretense?"  
  
Mai blinks at the accusation. "Of course it wasn't a ruse," she says, unsure of whether to be offended or not. It feels like she's standing on shifting sand, and she has the uncomfortable impression that the words she had spat in a moment of anger have been eating away at Azula's mind for the two years since the Boiling Rock. "You, Zuko, and Ty Lee were the only people I cared about. You knew that. But yes, I chose Zuko over you. When I let him escape, I knew that I was making the choice between my relationship with him and my friendship with you."  
  
Azula averts her eyes, and Mai watches her, feeling the strange sensation of pity curling in her chest. The memory of the wounded look in Azula's eyes after she had thrown those words at her had stayed with her for a long time, lingering behind her eyelids when she closed her eyes to go to sleep.   
  
"Perhaps a better choice of words would have been 'I love Zuko more than I fear your reaction,' then," Azula says, glancing at her out of the corner of her eye.  
  
Mai can't help but scoff. "Sure. The next time I'm in such a tense situation, I'll make more of an effort to pay attention to semantics."   
  
Azula tries to hide it, but she almost smiles at the joke, and that gives Mai the confidence and the motivation to speak.   
  
"That's all it was," she says. "Semantics."   
  
Azula looks at her searchingly, and maybe she sees something that convinces her that it is the truth. Her shoulders relax ever so slightly, and she holds Lan Min a little closer. "In any case," she says, "I forgive you for what you did at the Boiling Rock. I haven't been angry about it for some time now. You were wrong to assume that I ambushed you here to seek retribution."  
  
Mai's jaw drops. "What?"  
  
Azula makes a sound of assent. "You have my husband to thank for that. It came up in conversation months ago. I was telling him about your traitorous nature, and…" She frowns. "Chan Li told me that he would have done the same thing if he were in your place, without hesitation. If he faced a choice between protecting me, and retaining his allegiance to his ruler and friend, he would choose to defend me."  
  
Mai clears her throat, unsure of what to think. "Well, I can imagine that went over well."  
  
Azula sniffs. "I told him he was a fool. But he told me to think about it, and I couldn't help but consider it." She hesitates, looking at the table instead, as if the admission is painful. "If I had to make a split-second choice between obeying Ozai's orders, if following his command meant Ty Lee would be seriously harmed, I couldn't have done it. Or if I had found myself in a position where Ozai ordered me to stand aside so that he could harm my husband, I could not have allowed it."  
   
Mai doesn't know what to be more taken aback by. The fact that Azula, of all people, would choose love over loyalty to the once-Fire Lord that she had revered and respected, or that Azula apparently feels for her husband the same emotions she feels for Ty Lee.  
  
"You really have changed," is all she can manage.  
  
Azula raises an eyebrow. "Yes. Two years and surviving an attempted filicide will do that to you. It teaches you what matters. And speaking of what matters--" She steps forward, her gaze pinning Mai to the spot. "Where is Ty Lee? None of the reports I received from our forces mentioned one of the Avatar's inner circle falling in battle."  
  
There is the question Mai has been dreading, and she spares a moment to wonder how disastrous the response will be. She folds her hands into the sleeves of her robe and takes a deep breath. "In Ba Sing Se," she says. "With General Iroh's forces."  
  
Azula looks at her incredulously. "You left her there alone? Why didn't she come here with the rest of you?"  
  
Mai gathers her composure. "She isn't coming back," she says stiffly. "She's going to Kyoshi Island to join the Kyoshi Warriors. And no, I'm not joking."   
  
Azula stares, nonplussed. She stands there, frozen and silent, for several moments. Then she turns around, walks back to the sitting room, and retrieves a basket-like baby carrier from the doorway. She leans down, carefully settling Lan Min in the carrier.   
  
_Oh_ , Mai thinks. This is going to be worse than she expected.  
  
Azula stalks back to her, her eyes blazing. "And what did you have to say to this brilliant idea?" she demands.   
  
"I wasn't thrilled about it. I wanted her here with me," Mai replies evenly. "But it wasn't my choice to make."  
  
Azula shoots her a withering glare. "You just let Ty Lee run off and join a band of incompetent Earth Kingdom clowns? You allowed her to defect from the Fire Nation?"  
  
Mai bristles. "Ty Lee isn't my property. I don't _let_ her do anything. It was her choice."  
  
"You shouldn't have allowed it!" Azula shouts, pacing around in a small, tight circle. "You should have ordered her to return! Her place is here, not Kyoshi Island!"  
  
"Her place is here?" Mai echoes coldly. "Do you mean the Fire Nation, or the royal palace?"  
  
Azula is a second too late to respond, and Mai takes a step toward her. "Ty Lee was thinking about _you_ , Azula, when she decided that she couldn't come back to the palace. She couldn't bear to see you with your husband. And she told me that she did it for you, too, because she thought it would make it difficult and painful for you to have her around."  
  
Azula flinches, but she doesn't back down. "Still," she persists. "You should have told her--"  
  
"No! I didn't want her here, under those circumstances." Mai narrows her eyes. "Can't you think about someone besides yourself for once? It would have _hurt_ her. She would have spent so much energy trying to avoid you as much as possible."  
  
"No!" Azula yells, her face red. "It wouldn't have had to be like that at all!"  
  
Mai stares at her. "What did you think would happen?" she asks flatly. "How did you envision this working out?"  
  
Azula doesn't say a word. The expression on her face says it all.   
  
"Oh, spirits," Mai says, disgusted. "Would you have dishonored her by taking her as your mistress? Ty Lee deserves better than that. No, actually, you would have dishonored all three of you - you, Ty Lee, and your husband, wouldn't you? I thought you _liked_ him."  
  
The color drains from Azula's face. "How _dare_ you?" she hisses, her hands curling into fists, and for a second, Mai thinks that she might hit her. "How dare you judge me! You have no idea what it's like, you have no idea how--"  
  
She stops, her voice catching, and Mai is shocked to see tears in her eyes. She has never seen Azula cry before.   
  
"Azula," she says, reaching toward her.  
  
"Get away from me," Azula orders, retreating to the doorway and grabbing the baby carrier. Lan Min stares at them from inside, clutching the tail of a small stuffed dragon. She faces her, and for the second time in her life, Mai sees pure hatred on Azula's face. "I hate you," Azula manages. "I hate that _you_ had to be the normal one. It should have been me."  
  
She storms out, slamming the door behind her. Mai just stands there, not sure what to think. Finally, she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. The headache has just gotten worse. All she wants to do is lie down and forget that this ever happened, but her stupid conscience won't allow it. She waits a while, long enough to allow Azula to calm down somewhat. Against her better judgment, Mai makes her way to the door and steps into the hallway, looking right and left. Where would Azula go if she were upset? It would have to be somewhere private.  
  
She remembers, then, and takes a chance. Mai climbs four flights of stairs to the top floor of the palace and crosses into the east wing. It is quiet here. Deserted. The torches on the walls flicker, throwing pools of light onto the marble floors, and her footfalls echo as she walks. The Zhen Library, named for the third Fire Lord and located at the end of the east wing, is usually empty. It's the smallest library in the palace and receives few visitors. Mai enters the library and walks through the towering shelves of old books, making no effort to mute her steps. Azula is already angry at her, and she doesn't want to make things worse by sneaking up on her.   
  
She finds Azula sitting on a velvet sofa in the economics section, holding Lan Min tight, like she's clutching a lifeline. Her eyes are red. Mai approaches tentatively, and Azula turns to her, but says nothing.  
  
Taking a chance, she sits a safe distance away on the sofa. Azula still doesn't move or speak.  
  
"I'm sorry," Mai says. "I shouldn't have said what I did. You were right. I shouldn't be judgmental. Your circumstances are…difficult."   
  
Azula is silent for a long time, long enough that Mai debates on whether she should retreat.   
  
"It would have been so much easier for me if he was awful," she finally says, not looking away from the fireplace in front of them. "If he had been unkind, or unfaithful, or disrespectful."  
  
"Yeah," Mai says quietly. "I guess so."  
  
"I would have been able to get rid of him. To arrest him or send him into exile on some charge. At the very least, I wouldn't have felt any compunctions about being unfaithful to him." Azula pauses. "This will seem bizarre to you, but I actually resent it, at times. There are so many undesirable men, who are weak or faulty in character, and I was matched with one who is honorable and kind. It is an irony."  
  
"It is," Mai agrees. "I don't know whether to say that I'm sorry or not."  
  
"I love him," Azula says. She rests her chin on Lan Min's shoulder. "I love Ty Lee. In very different ways."   
  
"About Ty Lee…"  
  
Mai tells her everything about Kyoshi Island, about what Ty Lee had told her about how people like her and Azula can find acceptance there. At the beginning, Azula had been looking into the fire, but by the end, she's looking at Mai, giving her her full attention.  
  
"Really," Azula says softly, when Mai finishes. "I didn't know."  
  
"Me neither."  
  
There is a faraway expression on Azula's face. "I wish…" she starts, and then she seems to come back to herself, rubbing Lan Min on the back. "Never mind," she says, looking down at the floor. "It doesn't matter."  
  
Mai looks at her, her chest aching. She can guess what Azula had been thinking. "Ty Lee will be happy," she says. "She'll be able to live a life there that she never could here."  
  
Azula nods. "I see that. And I see that you had her best intentions at heart when you gave her your blessing to go. You care about her too. She deserves…" She clears her throat, looking down at her lap. "Ty Lee deserves the best. She deserves better than what I could have given her here."  
  
Mai risks reaching out and placing her hand on Azula's shoulder. Azula looks at it and doesn't shrug it off.  
  
"So," Mai says, testing the waters. "Are we okay?"  
  
"Well, we should be, don't you think?" Azula asks rhetorically, after some time. "I imagine that you and Zuko will be married within the next year, which means that you and I will be stuck with each other for the next several decades. I also suspect that in time - after he becomes accustomed to sharing the same space as me with neither of us trying to kill each other - Zuko may not be satisfied with mere professional coexistence. He's always wanted a nice, happy family." Azula stands up, and then smirks down at her in her mocking way, looking like her old self for the first time. "So, yes. After all, we're going to be sisters."  
  
Mai shudders, brushing dust from her lap and standing as well. "That's so weird to think about. But--" She stops, mortified by what had almost slipped out.  
  
"What?" Azula asks, momentarily preoccupied by adjusting Lan Min's slipper, which had been on the verge of falling off her small foot.  
  
"Nothing," Mai mumbles. "It's just that I expected you to keep hating me forever. Or several more years, at least. This isn't what I expected when you ambushed me in my room. Don't do that again, by the way," she adds.   
  
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry to disrupt your expectations," Azula says, straight-faced. "But don't worry. I can treat you awfully for the next couple of years, if that would make you feel better."  
  
Mai can't help but remember how afraid she had been in the weeks after hearing that Ty Lee wouldn't return to the Fire Nation with them. She had remained awake long after midnight, night after night, worrying about being alone and friendless in the capital, because he had never made friends easily. And now she's walking beside the last person she had ever expected to make peace and reconnect with. When Azula had offhandedly mentioned them being stuck with each other for several decades - well, that had been hard to wrap her mind around, but it had been strangely reassuring, too. She isn't going to be alone and friendless here, after all.   
  
"No," Mai admits, concentrating as hard as she can to avoid turning red. "That's fine."   
  
"You've become so sentimental," Azula says, with malicious glee. "The Mai of a few years ago would be positively nauseated to hear you now. Zuko has really rubbed off on you."  
  
Mai glares. "I am _not_ sentimental. Besides, I bet you're happy to have me around again too."  
  
Azula stares fixedly ahead. "I am not. It makes absolutely no difference to me at all."  
  
"Liar," Mai replies, unfazed.   
  
"I am the Fire Lord," Azula huffs, drawing herself up to her full height in indignation. "I am a paragon of virtue, honesty, and morality."  
  
Mai rolls her eyes. "Right. By the way, though…" she sighs, unable to believe she's saying this. "Your kid is pretty cute."  
  
Azula smooths Lan Min's dark hair, mollified. "Thank you. You know, before she was born, I was worried that I would have a boy that looked like Zuko."  
  
" _Azula_."  
  
"What? You're just upset because you'll have to face the same fear in a couple of years…"  
  
-  
  
 _to be continued_  
  
-  
  
This story will actually have a proper ending, but the gist of it is that Azula mercilessly trolls Mai and Zuko for the rest of their lives. Also, the mental image and idea of Zuko and Azula on the same side makes me so happy.   
  
As always, thank you so much for reading and for taking the time to leave comments. I appreciate it so much, and I love reading what you have to say.   
  



	34. Part 34

Kimiko is spooning the breakfast fruit porridge into bowls when she hears the gong being struck.   
  
Everyone reacts the same way. Hana jumps nearly out of her seat in fright and Ryou looks confused. “That’s weird,” Aki says. “Didn’t they do that when the princess was born?”  
  
Kimiko’s grip on the wooden spoon falters. “They strike the gongs when a member of the royal family is born or when they die,” she says automatically. Somebody is still striking the gong. Twice, thrice, again. “Or when there’s a marriage, or a coronation.” Her heart is hammering, and she tries to calm herself, setting the bowls in front of the children. The words run together in her head. _Birth, death, marriage, coronation._ Something has happened to Azula and she thinks she is going to be sick.   
  
“You should have learned that at school,” Yuming points out, gently ruffling her son’s hair. “I’m going to see what that’s all about.”  
  
She heads for the front door, and Kimiko can hear her calling out to one of the neighbors, Mrs. Ishida. As hard as she tries, she can’t make out the rest of the conversation.   
  
“Kimi?” Ryou asks, startling her. “Are you okay?”  
  
Kimiko makes an effort to relax her white-knuckled grip on the back of the chair and paste a smile onto her face. “I’m fine,” she reassures him. “Make sure to finish your breakfast. You have a long day ahead of you.”  
  
Kimiko remembers eating breakfast with Azula and Zuko during their family trips to Ember Island. Azula liked apple cakes and hated marmalade, and Azula can’t be gone. Not before she could see her again and hold her hand and tell her…  
  
She can’t complete that thought. No matter what happens, no matter what news Yuming breaks, she must hold herself together now. She shouldn’t upset the children.   
  
Yuming walks back into the kitchen, looking flustered - but not upset, Kimiko notes, and she seizes onto that bit of hope with frantic desperation, clutching the back of her chair like a lifeline.   
  
“What’s going on, Mama?” Hana asks, her mouth full of porridge.  
  
Yuming shakes her head in disbelief, sitting down at the table. “You won’t believe it,” she says. “I wouldn’t have, if not for the newspaper. Prince Zuko has returned to the Fire Nation.”  
  
The children erupt in a chorus of _What_? and _No way_ , and _I thought he was a criminal?_ and Kimiko starts to feel dizzy. Zuko is back…and what? Had they fought an Agni Kai, and Azula lost? Had Azula _died?_   
  
“And Fire Lord Azula has declared that he will rule by her side,” Yuming continues blithely. “His coronation will be at the end of the week. They’re striking the gongs in advance, since he is acting Fire Lord as of this morning.”  
  
Kimiko sits down hard.  
  
“Whoa,” Aki says. “I didn’t know we could have two Fire Lords.”  
  
“Don’t you remember Fire Lord Yozei and Fire Lord Reizei?” Ryou asks. “Fire Lord Chozei’s sons, the twins?”   
  
Aki makes a face. “No, I don’t, because I’m not a history nerd like you.”  
  
Ryou attacks Aki with his spoon, jabbing him in the ribs, and Aki howls in indignation as Hama laughs. Kimiko can feel a dazed smile spreading across her face.  
  
“Stop it, both of you,” Yuming orders, before turning to Kimiko and placing a hand on hers. “Apparently, as terms of her reconciliation with Prince Zuko, Fire Lord Azula ordered the end of the Hundred Year War.” She smiles. “That means your children should be returning home from their service in the colonies soon.”  
  
Kimiko can’t keep the tears from filling her eyes. _The terms of their reconciliation_. Zuko and Azula ruling the Fire Nation together. There had been no Agni Kai after all. Neither of them had hurt each other. “Yes,” she says softly. Five minutes ago, she had thought that the unspeakable had happened, and now she’s happier than she’s been in years. “I can’t wait to see them.”  
  
-  
  
It is torturous, but Kimiko waits a month and a half before setting out on her journey. She has to wait for the news that the Fire Nation forces in Omashu - where her son and daughter are serving - have begun to withdraw. Besides that, she wants to give Zuko time to get settled into his new role, and Azula time to become re-acquainted with her brother, before she returns. It will be a shock for both of them. The entire six weeks after receiving the news, Kimiko lies in bed awake at nights and tosses and turns, worrying over what she will say to them. Especially Azula. At least the wait gives her time to think about everything that she must say to her daughter, and the apologies she has to make.  
  
They strike the gong ten times on the morning of Zuko’s coronation. Kimiko stands in the backyard, her face tilted to the sun, and revels at the sound. She imagines the Fire Sages placing the crown on Zuko’s head, with Azula sitting by his side, resplendent in her royal robes, her burden lightened. The next morning, she buys the newspaper and reads the detailed account of the coronation. She smooths her fingers over Zuko and Azula’s royal portraits and hugs the paper to her chest. _I’m so proud of you,_ she thinks. _Of both of you._   
  
The morning that she begins her journey is an emotional one. Last night, the children and Yuming had cooked a special dinner for her and they had stayed up late playing games, but this morning, everyone is tearful, even the boys, and Hana is inconsolable. Yuming hugs her tightly and the children give her gifts. Kimiko has been with them for five years, ever since Yuming’s husband passed away. “You’ll always be part of our family, Kimi,” Yuming tells her now, clasping her hands. “Please visit us whenever you can. We’d love to meet your children.”  
  
Kimiko agrees, and promises to write, and hugs and kisses the three children who have helped to fill some of the void in her heart for these past five years. The four of them walk her to the dock and wave to her as she boards her ship, and she dissolves in tears when the ship sets sail and the island begins to recede behind her. She can’t tell whether they are tears of happiness or fear or both.  
  
She has been in exile for almost ten years now, and her banishment is one week’s travel from being over. After all these years, finally, finally, she will see her children again.  
  
-  
  
One week after Zuko’s coronation, after Aang, Katara, Toph, Suki, and Sokka fly to the Earth Kingdom, Mai descends to the lowest floor of the royal palace, the floor just above the dungeons, and knocks on the door to Prince Chan Li’s office.  
  
A dog barks on the other side, and a baby wails, and Mai flinches at the sound. She schools her expression back to calm neutrality by the time the door opens. Prince Chan Li wears his infant daughter in an odd-looking sling contraption and looks terribly stressed (and has a large ink stain on his chin, for reasons Mai cannot comprehend) but he greets her pleasantly anyway. “Lady Mai,” he says. “Is there anything that I can assist you with?”   
  
“Actually, I was wondering if I could be of any help to you,” Mai says evenly, folding her arms into the long sleeves of her robe. “I have an interest in the area of intelligence and interrogations, and I…”   
  
Chan Li turns around and walks away.   
  
Mai blinks, and wonders if she had offended him. But then he returns, a towering stack of scrolls piled into his arms. “Thank the spirits,” he says, relief evident in his voice. “I’ve had spy reports from every area of the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom colonies - the Earth Kingdom, excuse me - pouring in since Zuko’s return and Azula’s announcement of the end of the war. It’s more than I can deal with. Azula said that you were clever, so I’m sure you’ll decipher the codes quickly.”   
  
Man blinks again, hung up on the _Azula said that you were clever_ , and takes as many scrolls as she can from him. “This isn’t too bad,” she says. “I can get this done today.”  
  
Chan Li looks at her bleakly. “Come in,” he says.  
  
Mai enters with some trepidation, and then stares around. It is clear that she had spoken too soon. There are scrolls _everywhere_. Bound, unbound, stacked on the desk, and in piles on the floor. The only free spaces are under the desk, where a rather ugly gray dog stretches out, gnawing on a large bone, and a space on the desk for Lan Min’s baby carrier.  
  
“Oh,” Mai says. “I see.”  
  
From that point forward, she becomes Chan Li’s unofficial assistant. With Zuko and Azula’s approval, they easily come to the agreement that after she is married and crowned princess, she will share the official title of Head of Intelligence. Just as Zuko and Azula share the title of Fire Lord, which is appropriate, Mai thinks. Thankfully, she gets her own office, which she keeps in much better order than Chan Li’s den of chaos.   
  
She is in Chan Li’s office this morning, watching as he divides up their work for the day. “I’ll take reports from everything north of the Huangshou province,” he says, sorting through this morning’s delivery of information. “Do you want Fire Nation or Earth Kingdom reports today?”  
  
“I’ll take the Earth Kingdom today. Yesterday’s reading out of the Yunan Province was so mundane.”  
  
“Mundane is good,” Chan Li says, handing her the box of scrolls. “I like mundane.”  
  
There’s a knock on the door then, and Chan Li’s dog sets up the usual barking racket. “I’ll get it,” he says, narrowly avoiding tripping on another box of scrolls as he makes his way to the door. Mai looks over her shoulder curiously. Not many people venture down here unless they have a message from the Fire Lords, and reports were already delivered today.   
  
It isn’t a courier, anyway. It’s a couple of guards, one from Zuko’s retinue and one from Azula’s. An unusual combination. Both look quite on edge, and Mai sets down her box, giving them her careful attention.   
  
“Prince Chan Li, Lady Mai,” one of the guards says, bowing deeply. “We have…” He falters momentarily. “We have a visitor.”  
  
Chan Li frowns. “A visitor? Who is it?”  
  
The guards exchange uncomfortable looks, and after a long pause, the second guard clears his throat. “It’s the Princess Ursa,” he says timidly. “She’s waiting in the Ze Tian Sitting Room for an audience with the Fire Lords.”   
  
Chan Li’s jaw drops, and Mai stares. “You mean,” she says. Her voice doesn’t sound like her own. “You mean that a woman _claiming_ to be Princess Ursa is waiting in the sitting room for an audience with the Fire Lords.”   
  
The first guard shakes his head. “No, my lady, Prince Chan Li,” he says emphatically. “Captain Kang met with the woman at once, to verify her identity and ensure she wasn’t some lunatic trying to gain access to the royal palace and the Fire Lords for nefarious purposes. The captain guarded Princess Ursa before Fire Lord Azula was born, so he would know, and—“ He stops, swallowing hard. “It is Princess Ursa,” he says emphatically. “Captain Kang is sure of it. The Fire Lords are both in important council meetings that cannot be interrupted, so we came to you.”   
  
“Oh, spirits,” Mai says. It is the most emotion Chan Li has ever heard in her voice, and she goes even paler than usual. She strides out of the room, moving past the guards, and he can hear the sound of her slippered feet as she dashes down the hallway, undoubtedly on her way to Zuko. He should be going to Azula, but he stands frozen, unable to wrap his mind around it. She’s made so much progress in the past months, and the shock of this could be devastating to her health.   
  
“Prince Chan Li?” one of the guards prompts.   
  
Chan Li shakes his head, trying to recover. “Someone should tell her,” he says. “She needs to know.”  
  
“Captain Kang has gone to the throne room,” the second guard says. “He will inform the Fire Lord as soon as her meeting is over.”   
  
Chan Li nods wordlessly. He should be the one to do it. But there is something he needs to do first.  
  
-  
  
The Ze Tian sitting room hasn’t changed at all since her time in the royal palace. The antique carved wood sofas are the same, hard and uncomfortable as ever; the display of ornamental Ming porcelain, golden and bone-white; the golden silk curtains and intricately printed rugs. Sitting here, trembling hands clasped in her lap, Ursa feels like she has been dragged twenty years into the past - to when she had been a young woman about to meet her betrothed, Prince Ozai, for the first time.  
  
She hears the door open, and she jumps to her feet, her heart in her throat. But the person who walks in is a stranger, not one of the two people who have been on her mind every minute for the past week. He bows to her, and she sees that his red cloak is clasped with the gold flame pin worn by members of the Fire Nation royal family. “Princess Ursa,” he says, in greeting.   
  
_No_ , Ursa realizes belatedly. _Not a stranger_. Not quite. As he straightens, she looks into his face and recognizes the boy she had last seen as a fourteen-year-old, the older son of Ozai’s closest friend. He hadn’t had the scar on his chin then, but she remembers the unruly hair and the gray eyes. Ursa bows, fighting the urge to stare at the man who had married her daughter. “Prince Chan Li,” she returns politely. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Please call me Ursa. There’s no need for such formality. We are—“ She hesitates. “We are family, after all.”  
  
She had wanted to make him feel at ease, but Chan Li just shifts from foot to foot uneasily. Ursa silently sympathizes. She knows that there is no protocol in place dictating how the royal consort must greet their spouse’s formerly exiled, presumed dead, traitor parent.   
  
“Are you well?” he asks, somewhat awkwardly. “May I offer you some refreshments?”  
  
“I am perfectly fine,” Ursa hastens to assure him.   
  
Chan Li just looks at her unhappily. “Please excuse me for any rudeness, Princess Ursa, but I must speak honestly,” he says at last, the words blunt. “I don’t want to intrude, but the last time I stayed silent because I told myself it was a family matter, Azula got hurt. I can’t let that happen again.”  
  
“Of course,” Ursa replies, taken aback. “I…I completely understand.”  
  
“You were in the Fire Nation all along,” Chan Li says, and it isn’t a question. “This entire time, for the past nine years. And you’ve come back now.”  
  
She tries not to wilt at the condemnation in his voice. This is what she expected. It is not undeserved. “Yes.”  
  
Chan Li takes a deep breath, and she has the impression that he is trying to keep his temper in check. “I don’t even know what to say to you,” he says, his voice level. “Do you know the first thing Zuko asked Azula, after they finalized their agreement? He asked her if she knew where you were. If she had found anything in Ozai’s documents, any clues about where you were being kept. There was nothing. She thought you were dead. After Ozai - died, she told me that she was an orphan. She said that her sixteenth birthday was the first birthday she would celebrate without either of her parents.”   
  
Ursa flinches, but he continues on doggedly. “And Azula said to Zuko - do you know what she said to Zuko? She said that if you were alive, if you were sent into exile after all, she knew you would be back soon. Because _Zuko_ was back. She said she knew that you’d return to the capital as soon as you heard the news.”   
  
Ursa opens her mouth and no sound comes out.   
  
“I tried to tell her she was wrong,” Chan Li says flatly. “She had to be wrong. Even Zuko tried to tell her she was wrong. But here you are. Azula was crowned almost three years ago. Ozai, the man who sent you into exile, has been dead for close to a year. And you come back _now_.”   
  
“I know,” Ursa whispers. She feels the tears pricking the back of her eyes. “I know.”   
  
“Azula needed you,” Chan Li accuses, his voice rising. “After Ozai - after she - I’ve never seen a person cry so much. I’ve never seen a person suffer like - it was like she _died_ , like part of her had died with Ozai. She was so traumatized that she lost her firebending for a time.” He gestures angrily, helplessly. “It’s a miracle that she recovered. Another person wouldn’t have been able to. She went through all of that almost alone. And - and when she was pregnant, when she was having Lan Min, she called for you, over and over again. She cried for you until her voice almost gave out from it. She needed you, she needed her mother, and you weren’t here for her.”   
  
Ursa gasps out loud, her hand flying to her mouth. She hasn’t been struck since before her exile, but this stuns her more than any blow Ozai had ever thrown her way. She can’t breathe in, and she turns away and curls into herself, too humiliated to face him.   
  
She hears Chan Li curse under his breath. “I’m sorry,” he says, sounding genuinely remorseful. She can feel him hovering near her, as if uncertain about whether to offer a pat on the shoulder or not. “I shouldn’t have… I’ve upset you.”  
  
“No,” Ursa says, wiping her eyes. “Everything that you said is true.” It takes an effort, but she turns back to face him. He looks at her, wary and guarded. “I was a coward,” she says. “I was afraid. After I found out about Ozai, I was…I was horrified. I wanted to go to her, I started packing my bags that night, but _I was afraid_. I was afraid that she would throw me in prison - or worse - for what I did to her grandfather. And…” She swallows over her dry throat. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but I heard people saying things about her. About her mental state. I was scared to face her.”   
  
Chan Li studies her for a few moments. There is something like pity on his face. “So was I,” he says. “But I came back.”  
  
“You’re braver than I,” Ursa says steadily. “And I’m glad that you were. I’m glad that she didn’t go through it alone.”   
  
“Azula wouldn’t have hurt you,” Chan Li finally says, conviction in every syllable. “She would have thrown you into the dungeons for a time, but she wouldn’t have hurt you. Your being here would have been a benefit to her. She was in so much pain.”   
  
“I see that now. There are so many things I wish I could do differently,” Ursa manages, blinking the tears away from her eyes. “From leaving Zuko and Azula with Ozai when I went into exile, to not returning to the capital during the worst time of Azula’s life. I’m willing to spend as long as it takes, even if it takes me the rest of my life, to atone for those mistakes. Please take my word for that.”   
  
Chan Li sighs. “I do,” he says, after a long while. “And I am sorry for speaking to you so harshly,” he adds. “Truly, I am.”   
  
“I can see that it is not in your nature.” Ursa looks up at him. “You care for Azula,” she says. “I see that, too.”  
  
“I love her,” Chan Li says simply. “Very much.”  
  
For the first time today, Ursa smiles. “Good.” She tries to quell the anxious fluttering in her fingers; the impulse to wring her hands. “Is she well? How is she? And what about little Lan Min?”  
  
In lieu of a reply, Chan Li reaches for the folds of his cloak. “Hold on,” he says, extricating something that looks like a golden pocket watch from one of the inner pockets. He snaps it open, and Ursa sees that it it isn’t a pocket watch at all, but a locket. On one side is a miniature of the royal portrait of Azula and Chan Li. On the other is a miniature portrait of a smiling baby girl propped up against several pillows.   
  
“Oh,” Ursa murmurs, her voice cracking. Lan Min looks just like Azula had as a baby. “May I?”  
  
Chan Li hands her the locket. “You can hold on to that,” he says, a kindness that she’s grateful for. “I’ll go see if Azula is finished with her meeting.”  
  
Ursa takes the locket in her hands and holds it close.  
  
-  
  
Less than a minute passes between the ministers of finance leaving the throne room, and Captain Kang and Chan Li entering it. They cross the vast room quickly, urgency in the clipped pace of their boots against the marble floor, and they kneel in front of the throne in unison.   
  
None of this would have been any cause for alarm if not for the expressions on their faces. Azula hasn’t seen either of them this grave and tense since Zuko and the Avatar’s arrival in the capital, and she feels the old anxiety rear up within her like a snake. “Get up,” she says, rising to her feet in one sharp movement. “Where is Lan Min? Has something happened to her?”  
  
“Nothing is amiss with the princess,” Captain Kang says at once, allaying her fears. “Pardon us for worrying you, Fire Lord.”   
  
“She’s with my mother,” Chan Li says. But he still looks worried, and he reaches a hand out to her, a silent request for her to come closer.  
  
Azula frowns, descending the steps until she is on their level. She places her hand in Chan Li’s, and he curls his hand around hers. “What is the reason for all of this?” she asks, looking between the two of them.   
  
Captain Kang and Chan Li exchange a brief look, and before she can snap and demand that they enlighten her immediately, her husband clears his throat. “Azula,” he says. “Your mother is back.”   
  
_Impossible_ , is the first thing she wants to say. She looks to Captain Kang, who had guarded her mother before she was born, but he just nods. “I confirmed it myself, Fire Lord. It is Princess Ursa. She requested to see you and Fire Lord Zuko, and she is waiting in the Ze Tian sitting room. Prince Chan Li spoke with her as well.” The captain pauses. “She asked about you in particular, Fire Lord, repeatedly.”   
  
“Oh,” Azula says. That’s all she can manage. A stupid, uninspired monosyllable. It’s something she would have mocked Zuko for. They are both looking at her with undisguised worry on their faces, as if they expect her fragile mind to have snapped from the shock of it. Two breakdowns and one attempt to set her traitor scum father’s rooms on fire, and everyone in the palace will walk on eggshells around her for the rest of her life.   
  
“Should I tell the Princess Ursa to expect you?” Captain Kang asks.   
  
His words sound like they are coming from a great distance away, and after a few moments, Azula shakes her head. “No,” she says.   
  
He bows to her and retreats without judgment, as ever, leaving her alone with Chan Li. Azula isn’t conscious of making the decision to sit, but she finds herself sitting anyway, on the bottom step. “These marble floors are awfully hard,” she muses. “You don’t have to kneel to me here. It must be uncomfortable.”  
  
Chan Li just sits beside her. He doesn’t ask her if she’s all right. He just sits beside her and takes her hand, and instinctively, Azula leans against his shoulder. There is a hard lump in her throat and a building pressure in her chest. “I told you so,” she says, at last.  
  
“Azula—“  
  
She ignores him. “I am just a bonus to her. An inconvenient addition to the main attraction. Zuko is back, and she wants to see Zuko. Therefore, she must see me as well, just for the sake of appearances or etiquette. Don’t even argue with me. If it wasn’t true, she would have come earlier. I assume that she wasn’t imprisoned.”   
  
“No,” he says quietly. “She wasn’t. But I spoke to her, and for what it’s worth, I don’t think that she just views seeing you again as an obligation to be met.”  
  
Azula scoffs. “Please. You always assume the best of people,” she accuses. “You see everything through such a flowery, optimistic lens.”  
  
“Maybe,” is his unflappable reply. “But I was right about Zuko and Mai not hating you, like you thought they did.”  
  
Azula grits her teeth, unwilling to concede the point, and she averts her eyes. Chan Li takes that as encouragement, and he takes both of her hands in his. “She is a very flawed person,” he says. “Her reasons for staying away were… But we all have our flaws. Some more than others. And I believe - call me blindly optimistic if you want, but I believe that she is genuinely remorseful for not coming to you when you needed her.”  
  
“I _never_ needed her,” Azula protests at once, spitting out the bitter words, and he allows her some dignity and does not argue.  
  
“You don’t have to see her after today, if you don’t want to,” Chan Li says. He squeezes her hands gently, and she reluctantly meets his gaze. He looks as earnest as ever. “But this could be a fresh start for you, just like what happened with Zuko.”  
  
Azula remains stubbornly silent, her jaw set in a hard line, and he presses on. “Did you ever think that you and Zuko could reconcile?”  
  
Azula looks away again. “No,” she whispers, hating how small her voice sounds; how scared. In all the world, only her parents, only Ursa and Ozai, have been able to reduce her from the mighty Fire Lord to a whimpering, tearful girl. “But this is different.”  
  
“Is it?”   
  
Azula remains silent, and Chan Li wraps an arm around her shoulders. They stay like that for a long while before he speaks again. “Will you see her?”   
  
Azula stares at the floor, an unreadable expression on her face, and he shivers when he realizes that she is looking at the spot where Ozai had died. There is a crack in the marble, a dark scar where the lightning had burnt it. “I’ll think about it,” she says, and then she stands, holding a hand out to him. “You can guard me while I meditate.”   
  
-  
  
Zuko comes crashing through the door just a few minutes after Prince Chan Li’s exit. Ursa has just a moment to notice how tall her son has gotten - taller than his father - before he utters a choked cry and hugs her tightly, bending down and burying his head in her shoulder, just like he used to as a child.  
  
They talk for more than two hours, until Ursa’s throat hurts, despite the tea Zuko sends for. Zuko holds her hand and sits close, and she can’t keep herself from reaching out and touching his face - both sides of his face, burnt and unburnt - every so often, just to remind herself that he is real. He orders lunch for the two of them, and as hungry as she is after a long morning of traveling, the stress of being interrogated by Captain Kang, and then waiting to see her children, Ursa can’t do more than pick at her rice.   
  
“Eat, Mom,” Zuko admonishes her gently, patting her hand. “You must be starving.”  
  
She has the feeling that, as overjoyed as he is to see her, her son can’t quite get used to her changed appearance. She isn’t the polished noblewoman that he remembers anymore. Her hair has steaks of gray in it. Her skin has grown rough and weathered, her face lined, her hands calloused. She’s much thinner than she used to be. These past years with Yuming’s family have been good ones, but there were several that were spent in hard labor, as a field hand and farm worker. The food that Zuko had ordered from the kitchens is richer than anything she’s had in years, even for New Year’s meals. The rice is fried in oil, and the the roast duck has been marinated in a thick, spicy-sweet syrup. Ursa takes a bite, just to assuage his worries. “I’m worried about Azula,” she says, for the third time. “It’s been a couple of hours since Prince Chan Li left to talk to her, and I’m afraid that she…that she won’t want to see me.”  
  
“Azula will be here,” Zuko says confidently. “She’ll definitely be here. It might take a while, but she’ll come.”  
  
Ursa sets her chopsticks down, unable to maintain the pretense of eating. “I’m not so sure.” She closes her eyes, trying to fight off a sudden wave of nausea. For the entire week that she had been traveling, she had tried to reconcile herself to the possibility that her daughter wouldn’t want to see her. At the time, she’d told herself that she would accept it, but now she feels sick. She’s so close, and she just wants to see Azula again, to hold her in her arms and say what she needs to say.  
  
But this isn’t just about what she wants. This is about Azula, and Ursa knows, with a sinking feeling in her heart, that after what she had done, or not done, her daughter has the right to cut her out entirely.  
  
“Trust me, Mom,” Zuko tells her. “Everything will work out. Azula’s changed a lot. She’s—“  
  
Just then, there’s a knock on the door, and they both rise. “Come in,” Zuko calls.  
  
Captain Kang walks into the room and bows to them. “Fire Lord Zuko, Princess Ursa,” he says formally. “Fire Lord Azula will see you now.”  
  
Ursa’s stomach lurches. “I’ll go,” Zuko says hastily. “I’ll give you guys some privacy.” He hugs her tightly. “I told you it would be okay.”  
  
Zuko dashes out the side entrance, making an unceremonious exit. Ursa stays frozen to the spot, unable to even reply, staring at the door.   
  
Azula enters, followed by her husband, and the world, or Ursa’s vision, seems to shrink to just contain her. One almost-seventeen-year-old young woman, not as tall as her brother, but she moves with such grace, and has such an instantly commanding presence that Ursa thinks everyone must stop and stare when she walks into a room. She had always thought Azula looked striking in her official royal portrait, which accompanies every article written about her in the newspaper and is hung in every schoolroom and place of business in the Fire Nation, but it’s clear now that the portrait hadn’t done her justice. She is magnificent in her Fire Lord robes and crown, and Ursa looks at her with something approaching shock and awe, searching for similarities between the young woman in front of her and the little girl she had left behind.   
  
She sees it in the eyes. Azula’s face has sharpened, the lines of her cheekbones and jaw and brow as elegant as any classical portrait, but the eyes are the same, bright and golden. They have the same wary, watchful expression she remembers that Azula always used to look at her with, but there is something new there, something wounded. She sees it in the way Azula hangs back, reluctant to approach her. That hurts just as much as looking at Zuko’s scar had.   
  
She should ask whether it’s all right, but she can’t stop her feet from moving forward, carrying her to her daughter. She approaches tentatively, slowly, and Azula looks at her like a tiger-deer faced with bright lights. She hesitates, her arms twitching somewhat, as if she’s unsure whether to reach out or to push away. Ursa doesn’t want to know which.   
  
“Azula,” she says softly, fighting the urge to cup her hand to her daughter’s cheek, like she had with Zuko.  
  
Azula doesn’t respond. Perhaps that isn’t a good sign, but Ursa doesn’t think before wrapping her arms around her and holding her close, all the breath leaving her body in a ragged gasp. Azula is shorter than her and her hair, swept into a thick, silken topknot, smells of lotus blossoms. She can’t even remember the last time she hugged her daughter, and she can’t let go. Even though Azula doesn’t return her embrace, even though she just stands with her arms limp at her sides, she can’t let go, and she rubs her daughter’s back and cradles the back of her head in her hand. These are the things she had done for Zuko and Yuming’s children a thousand times, and far too little, for Azula. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, over and over again. “I should have done this a year ago. I should have been here a year ago. I’m so sorry for everything.”  
  
Azula doesn’t respond. But after several moments, to Ursa’s intense surprise, she just drops her forehead onto her shoulder, like a puppet whose strings have been cut, and Ursa can feel her ragged breathing.  
  
The lapse, if that had been what it was, lasts for just a second or two. Then Azula stands up straight and stares at her wordlessly, and Ursa wipes self-consciously at her wet face. She had cried onto Azula’s hair. “Will you sit with me?” she asks.   
  
Azula walks to the sofa, still expressionless, and takes a seat. Instead of sitting beside her, Chan Li seats himself across from her, leaving the space beside her for Ursa. She takes it, and before she can speak, she notices her daughter’s hands. Azula has folded them in her lap like a perfect lady, but they’re trembling. Instinctively, Ursa reaches out for her, and Azula pulls her hands back in a lightning-fast movement, curling them into fists.   
  
“Why didn’t you return a year ago?” she asks, staring at her hands. Her voice is tightly controlled, as if it might snap at any moment. “If I’m not an afterthought to you after all, not just an addition to seeing your precious Zuko - if you really did care about me at all, then why didn’t you come sooner?”  
  
“I was scared,” Ursa replies bluntly, twisting her hands together in her lap. It makes her feel low, so low, to admit it, but she can’t dance around the truth now. “My first instinct was to come, but I was scared of the consequences. I was afraid that you would imprison me for what I had done to your grandfather, or for daring to return, or for…not being there for you, as I should have, when you were young.”  
  
Azula turns to face her, her expression cold. “I would have done it,” she says, “I would risk imprisonment or worse for Lan Min.”  
  
Her chest hurts as Ursa remembers that despite her youth, her daughter is a mother now. “I don’t doubt it,” she replies steadily. “You and Zuko both possess courage and strength that I no longer have. Azula, I - I didn’t come back when your brother was burnt and exiled. When I found out about what Ozai had done to Zuko, I— I should have known then. I should have known what kind of a monster he was, and I should have guessed that he would turn against you too, that he wouldn’t stop at _just_ maiming a child. I should have found a way, somehow, to come and take both of you away from his grasp. I—“   
  
Ursa breaks off, pressing her lips together tightly. She realizes that she’s rocking back and forth, and it takes an effort to keep herself still. “And I didn’t come back when you needed me,” she says. “Both times, I was a coward, and I recognize that weakness in my character. But I promise you, I promise you, that weakness in me doesn’t mean that I love either of you less.”   
  
“But you do!” Azula snaps. “You always have. You’ve always preferred Zuko. You were afraid of me. You’ve always thought I was some kind of monster.”   
  
Ursa takes a deep breath. “I don’t deny my behavior,” she says levelly, grasping the worn fabric of her skirt tightly. “But _monster_ isn’t the word I would use. Never that. I… It was unfair to you. _I_ was unfair to you. You were just a child, and I - I took things out on you that I shouldn’t have.”  
  
Azula just looks at her, obviously waiting for more, and Ursa smooths the wrinkles in her skirt, unable to meet her daughter’s gaze. “Ozai and I had…difficulties in our relationship,” she manages. “And you…you reminded me so much of him, and he took to you as soon as you were born, unlike Zuko. He took you under his wing from the start. You were like Ozai in miniature, and I thought of him whenever I saw you.”  
  
“I see.” Azula’s face is a mask. Across from them, Chan Li looks pained.   
  
“It…it prejudiced me against you, in a way it shouldn’t have,” Ursa whispers. “I should have been able to see past that. I regret it, Azula. I regret it so much. Please know that.”   
  
Azula looks away. “Would you ever have returned to the capital if Zuko hadn’t come back?” she asks quietly. “If he had died out in the wilderness with the Avatar? If it were just me, would you have come back?”   
  
“Eventually,” Ursa says honestly. “I could have come back after your daughter was born, but I…” She looks at Chan Li, and at the open locket that rests on the carved wooden table in front of them. “I didn’t know if you wanted me. I didn’t think you needed me. You have your own family now, and I liked to think you were happy. That Prince Chan Li and little Lan Min made you happier than Ozai and I did.” She trails off. “I always made the mistake of not thinking that you needed me, from the time you were a small child,” she says abruptly. “But all children need their mothers. I see that now. I - I read about you in the newspapers. I saved the articles. About your marriage, and Lan Min, and all the laws that you passed. I followed your life as much as I could. But in time, I know that wouldn’t have been enough. Even if something had happened to Zuko during his time with the Avatar, in time, I would have come back to you.”   
  
Azula glances back at her, a frown furrowing her brow. “You’re telling the truth,” she muses, sounding more surprised than anything else, and it breaks Ursa’s heart.  
  
After a moment of hesitation, she reaches out, placing a hand on top of her daughter’s. Azula’s hand twitches, but she doesn’t pull back. “I used to look at you and see Ozai,” Ursa says. “Your similarities to him were all that I saw. But I was wrong. I look at you now, and I look at the things you’ve done, and how you reconciled with Zuko, how you ended the war, and I see so much more than Ozai. So much more than _me_. I see an incredibly intelligent, analytical, thoughtful, brave, strong, and loving person. A truly remarkable young woman. And I…” She swallows over the tightness in her throat. “There’s nothing more I want in the world than to get to know that person. To get to know you, if you will allow it. If you’ll give me a chance.”  
  
Azula blinks, shaken. “You’re not lying,” she says, after a long silence. “You actually think kindly of me.”   
  
Ursa tries to smile. “I do,” she says. “Very much. I wish I could show you that.”  
  
“Oh,” Azula says. There’s a slightly unfocused look in her eyes.  
  
“I don’t want to force you into something you don’t want, or that you’re not ready for,” Ursa says, in a rush, squeezing her daughter’s hand, and then letting go. “I don’t want to push you. You don’t have to say anything now. If I can just go for a walk in the courtyard with you sometime, when you’re ready, _if_ you’re ready…”   
  
Azula stands up without a word and walks to the table in the corner of the room, her back to them. She picks up Ursa’s abandoned plate of lunch and rests it in her right hand. Ursa looks at Chan Li, unsure of what to do. _Let her be_ , he mouths.   
  
“I warmed up your food and the cup of tea for you,” Azula announces, after some time. She returns to them, brushing her hands off on her robes. “Eat it before it gets cold.”   
  
“Thank you,” Ursa stammers, moved.   
  
“I have an afternoon meeting, so I should go now,” Azula says, by way of reply. She seems to have recovered her composure, and her expression is clear and focused again.   
  
Ursa stands, clasping her hands in front of her. “Thank you so much for seeing me,” she says. She is about to take a chance and move to hug Azula again, but her daughter just nods at her and sweeps off. Ursa looks at her departing back, crestfallen, but Chan Li catches her eye and gives her a small, encouraging nod, before following Azula out the door.   
  
He must know her better than anybody else, Ursa realizes. And if he thinks it isn’t hopeless, if he thinks she’s made some kind of breakthrough, than that must mean something.  
  
She walks over to the table, her legs leaden, suddenly bone-weary, and touches the hot plate, warmed by her daughter’s own hands. She remembers Azula’s command - something that she wouldn’t have said if she didn’t care.   
  
And she sits down and eats her food before it gets cold.  
  
-  
  
Following that afternoon, Ursa does not see Azula for a month.   
  
She has dinner with Zuko almost every night, and they are often joined by Lady Mai, a clever and delightful young woman who is perfectly suited to her son. Both Zuko and Mai tell her the same thing, in regards to Azula. “It might take a while,” Mai warns her. “Months, even. But I think Azula will eventually want to see you.”  
  
Ursa tries to smile. “I wish I could share your conviction.”  
  
“I betrayed her and abandoned her, and she still forgave me,” Mai replies. “Azula is…well, she’s emotionally intense, to put it lightly, but she’s a reasonable person.”  
  
“Don’t lose hope, Mom,” Zuko adds. “Mai is right.”  
  
Ursa is touched by their faith in Azula. They care about her, and knowing that there are other people who care about her daughter is such a relief, after all the months that she thought of Azula stranded alone in the cold, unforgiving environment of the royal palace. As hard as she tries, though, she can’t be as optimistic as Mai and Zuko. Azula had forgiven Mai for the abandonment, but Mai had just been a friend. A lifelong friend, yes, but a friend, not her own flesh and blood. Not her own mother.   
  
Ursa wakes up late the morning after her dinner with Zuko and Mai. It had been the end of the week and the two of them had no work the next morning, so they had stayed up late, telling her stories of their time with Avatar Aang and their other friends. Ursa bathes, performs her morning prayers, and is in the middle of her daily stretching routine when she hears a knock on the door.   
  
Getting up from the floor is not as easy as it had been some years ago, but she manages, wondering who it is. She opens the door and finds herself face-to-face with the last person she had expected.  
  
“Good morning,” Azula says calmly, as if her presence here is not at all unusual. She is dressed in simpler clothing than her formal Fire Lord robes, but she looks no less elegant for it.    
  
It’s such a shock that Ursa clutches at the door weakly, feeling rather out of breath. “Good morning.”  
  
“I trust that you slept well?” Azula asks.   
  
“Yes,” Ursa replies breathlessly. “Quite.”  
  
“I'm glad. I was wondering if you would like to join me for a walk in the rose—“  
  
It is impolite, but Ursa can’t help but cut her off before she even finishes the sentence. “Yes!” she blurts, and Azula looks startled by the intensity of her response.   
  
“Er, yes,” Ursa repeats, struggling to keep her tone measured. “Yes, of course. Absolutely. I would _love_ that.”  
  
“Good,” Azula says. She smiles, just a small smile, and it is one of the most beautiful sights that Ursa has ever seen.  
  
-  
  
 _to be continued_  
  
-  
  
Thank you so much to everybody who left their comments on the last chapter. I lost motivation to carry on with the story for a few months, as a result of demands irl, but reading your comments gave me the motivation to come back and put this one chapter closer to being finished. Thank you.   
  



	35. Interlude

Azula wakes up late on the morning of her seventeenth birthday.   
  
She drifts, warm and content, between a light sleep and drowsy wakefulness for some time before that. Her face is tucked against Chan Li’s shoulder and he has an arm around her. At some point, she feels him move away from her, slowly and carefully. She feels a gentle touch on her head, palm stroking her hair, and then an equally gentle kiss on her brow. On some level, her mind registers bemusement, because Chan Li never gets out of bed before her. She wakes early, while he generally sprawls out in bed, mumbling nonsensical things in his sleep and clutching a pillow tight, until after she finishes her morning exercise routine and returns to their room to order him to wake up. Often, these orders have to be supplemented by several taps to the top of the head.   
  
Despite her confusion at the uncharacteristic break in routine, Azula lapses back into sleep.  
  
She wakes again some time later and sleepily pats the empty space beside her a few times, scowling in displeasure when her hand finds nothing but the thick blankets. As her typical alertness returns, sleep loosening its grip on her, she remembers Chan Li’s departure and sits up, rubbing her eyes. A large crystal vase on the bedside table, filled with at least three dozen red roses, catches her attention. It hadn’t been present the night before. It’s hopelessly cliche, but a hesitant smile tugs on the corners of her lips anyway.  
  
She slides out of bed, stretches, and retreats to the bathroom, getting ready for the day. For once, it isn’t a rush. Unlike last year, she will not work on her birthday. Azula brushes her teeth and washes her face and combs her hair and reflects, as she brushes powder onto her face and applies her lipstick. Only one year has passed since her sixteenth birthday, but her entire life has changed. This time last year, she had been lost in a sea of turmoil and upheaval, struggling to stay afloat. Chan Li had been her sole friend and ally. In one year’s time, Lan Min had been born, and Mai and Zuko had re-entered her life, with Zuko as another Fire Lord, shouldering a full half of the responsibilities and burdens of ruling. And her mother had returned.   
  
They are all having dinner together tonight, Chan Li, Mai, Zuko, and her mother. And her, of course. It will be a family dinner. Azula still can’t quite wrap her mind around it. Just when she had formed a new family, her old one, one that she had assumed lost forever, had returned. It is a good thing, as Chan Li tells her repeatedly. Be that as it may, having a friend, a brother, and a mother again, is still hard to process. Throughout her life, she’s only had room in her heart for a few people. At first, it had been Mai and Ty Lee. Then it had been Chan Li and Lan Min. Now there are three more who will have a place in her life.   
  
It isn’t an awful predicament. It is better than the terrible loneliness and isolation that had plagued her once, and nearly driven her mad, but she suspects that it will take time to become accustomed to it. Especially in the case of her mother.  
  
Azula smooths her hands over her red and black gown, a simpler version of her Fire Lord robes, and eyes herself appraisingly. As she will not be in the throne room today, she forsakes her usual topknot in favor of leaving her hair loose. Lan Min will be thrilled. One of her daughter’s favorite pastimes is patting her hair - and sometimes, to Azula’s bafflement and mild disgust, cooing and drooling in it.  
  
There is a knock on the door, and a familiar, happy cry from the other side. “Princess Lan Min to see Fire Lord Azula,” Chan Li calls, in his best formal voice.  
  
Azula opens the door at once. Her family stands in the middle of the bedroom, Lan Min in Chan Li’s arms, squirming excitedly and looking thrilled. Rao the dog stands beside Chan Li, wagging its tail at rapid speeds, as usual. She strides over to them and Chan Li meets her halfway, wrapping his free arm around her and hugging her close. “Happy birthday,” he says with a smile, as Lan Min cries out in delight and puts her tiny hands in her hair.  
  
Azula leans into the embrace, stretching up on the tips of her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” she says, before taking her daughter into her arms. At five months old, Lan Min is a satisfying, solid weight in her arms, twenty-seven inches long and weighing fifteen pounds. At every checkup, the royal physician comments on how strong and healthy she is, which Azula finds tremendously gratifying. Everyone, from Chan Li’s parents to her own mother, agrees that Lan Min will grow tall and strong. Even now, she’s getting taller at a rate the physician says is a little unusual, though Admiral Chan tells stories of his grandmother, who had stood close to six feet tall. Lan Min’s new sleeping clothes, a gift from her grandparents, are a little too long in the feet and hands at the moment, but Azula knows that the problem will resolve itself in a short time. In any case, her daughter looks adorable when she moves her arms, as she’s doing now.   
  
“She’s still in her sleeping clothes,” Azula observes, stroking Lan Min’s back.   
  
Chan Li nods toward the box resting on the bed. “I thought that you would want to dress her up, since today is a special occasion.”  
  
He tries not to laugh at the gleam that comes into Azula’s eyes.  
  
The three of them convene on the massive bed, Rao looking up hopefully from the floor. In a few minutes, he will jump up, and Azula will glare and make ominous statements about filthy paws and the spread of disease, but allow him to curl up at the foot of the bed regardless. Chan Li spreads out a thick, plush, furry blanket, and Azula deposits Lan Min onto it, watching in amusement as the baby giggles and rubs her hands and face against the soft material, rolling around in glee. She adores touching different textures. Her grandparents indulge her by ordering bolts of fabric from the dressmakers’, from gleaming, slippery silk and satin, to rich velvet and plush velour and furs.   
  
“Set out the clothes,” Azula decrees, scooping her daughter into her lap. Impulsively, she bends and kisses Lan Min on the top of the head, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. Sharing her mother’s normal aversion to sentimentality, Lan Min strains forward, struggling to return to the blanket.  
  
Chan Li arranges the clothes on the bed, spreading out embroidered silk suit pants in red, gold, orange, yellow, and violet, and then jackets in a similar array of colors. On normal days, for the sake of time, they dress Lan Min in suitable clothing. He particularly likes finding colors that suit her bright golden eyes, even when they depart from the traditional red, gold, and black worn by the Fire Nation royal family. He still remembers the look on Azula’s face the first time he had dressed Lan Min in green. But when they have time, like today, Azula likes to dress Lan Min on her own.  
  
“Ready,” he says, and Azula sets their daughter free. Lan Min launches herself from her mother’s arms with a warlike cry and crawls over to a pair of violet pants, collapsing on top of them.  
  
Azula nods, looking completely serious, and Chan Li takes the pants and sets them aside. “Very well,” she says. “Now, Lan Min, find your jacket.”  
  
Lan Min grabs a handful of gold pants in one fist and then tries to stick the fabric into her mouth, gurgling determinedly. “No,” Azula says patiently. “You have already chosen pants. Now you must decide on your jacket.”  
  
After another few moments of chewing on the pants, Lan Min abandons the endeavor and crawls purposefully toward the orange jacket, bypassing the red, gold, and violet. She pats the sleeve hard, punctuating the gesture with a little cry.   
  
“Excellent work,” Azula says, reaching out and hugging her daughter. “I am very pleased.”  
  
Lan Min nestles into her mother’s arms, glowing as if she had understood the praise.   
  
“Violet and orange,” Chan Li says, torn between pride and amusement at Lan Min’s decision-making skills, and horror at how much her chosen colors clash. “An, uh, interesting choice. This beats last week’s red and green.”  
  
“What is important is that she makes these decisions herself,” Azula says, as she removes Lan Min’s sleeping clothes, and quickly and efficiently begins to dress her in her choices. “It’s a good sign that even at her young age, she is already so decisive and capable of making independent choices. She knows what she wants, and she does not hesitate. These are good qualities for a ruler to have.”  
  
Chan Li reaches out and smooths Lan Min’s hair tenderly, and she leans her head into his touch, smiling. Unlike Azula, he can’t yet conceptualize his little girl as the Fire Lord she will someday be. It’s hard enough to think of Lan Min growing out of infancy and into childhood. “She’s only five months old.”   
  
“She will be the Fire Lord. It’s never too early to start learning. Slippers?”   
  
Chan Li holds two pairs of slippers in front of Lan Min, one red and one black. She reaches up, grabbing at the red pair. Azula places them on her small feet and then smiles down at her daughter, fully dressed and prepared for the day. “Very regal.”  
  
“Very bold and confident,” Chan Li agrees, as Lan Min kicks her feet energetically.   
  
They are interrupted by a knock on the door, and Azula glances up. “That must be breakfast,” she says. “It’s late today, isn’t it?”  
  
Despite the fact that he is usually ravenously hungry in the morning and the late arrival of breakfast generally causes him distress, Chan Li just mumbles noncommittally and occupies himself with combing Lan Min’s hair, arranging it into a little ponytail on the top of her head. Azula raises an eyebrow at him. “Ponytails are so plebeian,” she says, as she rises from the bed and makes her way to the door. “Is her hair long enough for a proper topknot yet?”  
  
The Fire Lord opens the door, ready to comment on the uncharacteristic lateness of the morning meal, and finds herself speechless. Instead of standing face-to-face with Pao, the servant who always brings the meals, it’s her mother that is standing in front of her, holding a large tray of breakfast. Ursa looks slightly frantic, her hair frizzing out, a smear of white, powdery substance on her nose. But she smiles, wide and genuine. “Happy birthday, Azula,” she says. It is the first time she has heard her mother say this in ten years. “May I come in?”  
  
Still at a loss for words, Azula steps aside, allowing her mother to enter. Chan Li’s complete lack of surprise and calm greeting confirms that he had been forewarned of whatever this is. The traitor.   
  
“You didn’t have to do this,” she says, as her mother goes to the sitting room and begins to lay out the spread. Chan Li and Lan Min follow behind them. It’s a larger meal than usual, fresh and steaming hot. There are scrambled eggs, steamed, stuffed buns, dumplings, dough ball soup, honey cakes, apple cakes - her favorite - and a pot of tea. She has no idea how her mother managed to carry the tray all the way up from the kitchen.   
  
“I wanted to,” Ursa replies, setting out chopsticks and wooden spoons for the soup. Her movements are quick and nervous. She stands up straight, and Azula feels the faintest prick of pity. She steps forward, within arm’s reach, and allows her mother to embrace her. She supposes that this is an emotional day for her mother as well. Ursa hugs her a little too tight, as she always does, but she can’t entirely bring herself to mind. After a few breaths, she relaxes, breathing in her mother’s perfume and feeling the warmth in her arms. “Happy birthday,” Ursa murmurs. “I hope that this year brings you all the happiness in the world.”  
  
“Thank you,” Azula says. She averts her eyes, blinking a few times. “It was kind of you to bring us our breakfast. Have you had anything to eat this morning?”  
  
Ursa steps back, wringing her hands anxiously. “Oh, I’m fine. Does the food look all right?”  
  
“Of course it does,” Azula replies, distracted by how Lan Min is reaching toward Ursa, babbling a greeting. Her daughter is fond of her maternal grandmother, despite Ursa’s relatively recent entry into her life, and she doesn’t know how to feel about that. “I never have complaints about the food. The kitchen staff is excellent.”   
  
Ursa smooths her hands against her robes. “The kitchen staff didn’t prepare it,” she says, in a rush. “I did.”  
  
Azula stares, completely taken aback. “You—“ she starts. Well, that explains the flour on her mother’s nose. “I…I didn’t know you could cook.”  
  
Ursa nods. “I cooked for Yuming’s family, as well as being a nursemaid to her children.” She smiles weakly, gesturing to the table. “The children particularly liked my dumplings, and I picked up the recipe for the dough ball soup during my time at a farm in Gansu. I hope you enjoy it.”  
  
Azula glances at the breakfast tray out of the corner of her eye. The stuffed buns, the dumplings, the dough balls, all painstakingly crafted - not to mention the honey cakes and apple cakes. It must have taken hours. Her mother would have woken up at sunrise, or even before.  
  
She takes herself by surprise and reaches out, taking both her mother’s hands in her own. “I am sure it will be excellent,” she says, a little stiffly. “Thank you.”  
  
Ursa hugs her again and kisses her cheek. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight,” she says.  
  
“Of course.”  
  
Her mother says goodbye to Lan Min, fussing over her for a few minutes, and departs. Once she’s gone, Chan Li moves to her side, to where she’s staring at the steam drifting up from the soup. He rests a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?” he asks quietly.  
  
“I’m fine,” Azula says, tearing her gaze away from the safety of the soup. “That was just…unexpected.”  
  
“I’m sorry for not warning you. She felt very much that it should be a surprise.”  
  
“That’s all right.” She inhales, breathing in the scent of the fresh-baked buns. “It was a kind thing to do, and the food does smell good. Let’s eat.”  
  
Azula settles Lan Min in the high chair, and Chan Li produces a stack of wooden blocks for her to entertain herself with. Lan Min ignores the blocks in favor of staring lovingly down at Rao the dog, who lies at the foot of her chair. By Azula’s estimation, Lan Min spends approximately half the time that she is not sleeping staring lovingly at Rao the dog. Chan Li thinks it is _cute_. Azula, meanwhile, lives in fear that that “Rao” or “Dog” will be her daughter’s first word.  
  
They are just a few bites into breakfast when one of the palace couriers arrives. He stops just outside the door and bows deeply to her, his arms full of packages. “I apologize for interrupting your breakfast, Fire Lord,” he says. “Some birthday gifts have arrived for you, from Admiral Chan and Lady Suyin, Fire Lord Zuko, Lady Mai, and Princess Ursa.”   
  
Azula raises an eyebrow, intrigued. As the wealthiest person in the world, there is nothing anyone can buy her that she cannot purchase for herself, but gifts are interesting nevertheless. “You can bring them here. I’ll open them as I eat.”   
  
The courier deposits the packages on the corner of the table, bows again, and makes a hasty exit. “What is it?” Azula asks Chan Li, in between bites of a steamed bun.   
  
“Hold on, I’ll hand them to you,” he says, around a mouthful of eggs. He picks up a slim envelope of gold silk and reads the attached note from the courier. “This is from my parents.” He coughs to hide a laugh. “I hope it isn’t another brooch.”    
  
Azula takes the envelope curiously. Last year she had received a rather dreadful ruby brooch from her in-laws. Thankfully, this envelope appears unable to hold any jewelry. Instead, there are four tickets nestled inside, and a note written in her mother-in-law’s elegant script.   
  
“Are those tickets?” Chan Li asks. “What for?”   
  
“The Imperial Museum’s special exhibition on weaponry through the ages,” Azula replies, impressed. “How did your parents acquire these? The exhibition won’t open until autumn.”  
  
“They’ve been patrons of the museum for years,” Chan Li says. “My mother is friends with the curator.”  
  
“I must thank her,” Azula says. “I’ve heard that there are going to be guillotines at the exhibit. It will be an enjoyable and most illuminating night. Mai is going to _die_ of jealousy,” she adds gleefully.   
  
Chan Li shudders delicately. “Speaking of Mai, here’s something from her.”  
  
Mai’s gift is a slender box wrapped in black silk, to Azula’s complete lack of surprise. There is no note. She lifts the lid off the box to reveal a familiar green-and-black metal fan, and she laughs out loud, amused. She removes the fan from the box and flicks it open in one smooth movement, remembering.   
  
“Those are Earth Kingdom colors, aren’t they?” Chan Li asks, confused.   
  
“Correct. This is from when Mai, Ty Lee, and I impersonated the Kyoshi Warriors in order to bring down Ba Sing Se from the inside.” Azula fans herself. “You remember the story, right?”  
  
“Of course I do. Your perfectly bloodless coup.” Chan Li smiles. “It’s a nice memento.”   
  
Azula shows the fan to Lan Min, who reaches for it. “It is,” she says, pleased. “I will hang it in my office. And…” she sighs. “I suppose that I can give Mai one of the tickets your parents gave me. If Zuko’s gift isn’t idiotic, I might as well give him the other.”   
  
“I’m sure that was their intention,” Chan Li says, handing her the package from Zuko.  
  
“We are not going to double date, though,” Azula stresses. “You and I will go. And Zuko and Mai will go on an entirely different night.” She tugs at the ribbon, tied too tight around the awkwardly-wrapped package. “Look at this amateurish gift wrapping,” she says. “I can tell he did this himself. He’s lived in the wilderness for so long that he forgot we have servants to do this kind of thing for—“  
  
She finally manages to extricate the gift from its wrapping, and her voice dies in her throat.  
  
It’s a framed portrait. She doesn’t remember ever seeing this portrait before. It doesn’t hang in the Hall of Portraits, and she doesn’t remember sitting for this portrait, either. She would have been too young to remember. The Azula in the portrait can’t be more than two years old to Zuko’s four, and they are dressed in matching outfits, sitting side-by-side. She is holding his hand, and they are both smiling. His face is unscarred.   
  
Azula is faintly conscious of Chan Li’s hand on hers. She swallows hard, over the tightness in her throat, and she looks at Lan Min, who is concentrating on trying to stack her blocks. She watches Lan Min until the tears stop filling her eyes and she can see clearly again.   
  
“There’s a note in the back of the portrait’s frame,” Chan Li says softly.   
  
Azula inclines her head a fraction of an inch. “Go on.”  
  
“It’s not long. He says that he found the portrait in the attic archives. And there’s an appointment for next month on the twelfth. He says he checked your schedule to make sure that date was clear first.”   
  
Azula frowns. “An appointment?”  
  
Chan Li slides the note over to her. _For our next portrait_ , it says. _It’s been too long since the last one._  
  
She leans against Chan Li for a while after that. He reheats their food with one hand and they finish their meal, sitting on the same side of the table. He talks about sitting for portraits with his younger brother to distract her, which she appreciates. “Do you want to open your mother’s gift now?” he asks, once they are eating their apple cakes.  
  
Azula considers it for a moment. “I might as well,” she says, with some reluctance. She hates feeling emotional in the morning. “After all, I will have to thank her for it properly when I see her at dinner.”  
  
Her mother’s gift is in a large box, much larger than the others, and Azula raises an eyebrow at the size. She lifts the lid off the box and stares into it, momentarily perplexed. It isn’t one gift. It’s a collection of things. Old, small things, each tied to a labeled scroll.   
  
“That says _eight_ on it,” Chan Li comments, indicating a book - an illustrated biography of Fire Lord Zhaohui, the first female Fire Lord. “And the letter with that music box says _nine_. I wonder…” He trails off, the realization hitting him. “Oh.”  
  
Azula reaches into the box, stunned. She touches the dusty leather-backed planner that accompanies  the scroll labeled _ten_. She picks up a fine set of brushes that accompanies the scroll labeled _eleven_ , and tests their quality with the tip of her finger. The workmanship is excellent. The brushes must have cost more than her mother could easily afford.  
  
The gift tied to scroll _twelve_ is a book. _Our Bodies, Ourselves_ , it says, on the front. A cursory examination of the book reveals that it discusses menstruation and the other changes that girls go through as they become women. There are further chapters on sexual relationships, contraception, and childbirth. Even a passing glance at its pages show that it is more thorough than the education on such topics she had received at the Royal Academy for Girls. At the Royal Academy, she had learned only that upon reaching a certain age, she would bleed once a month for up to one week, that “intimate relations” were reserved for her husband only, and that “intimate relations” involved “lying back and thinking of the Fire Nation.”  
  
Out of curiosity, Azula unties the scroll accompanying the book. _I should be the one talking to you about all of these things_ , her mother writes. _I hate to think of what Li and Lo will tell you._ The letter is long. There’s no time to read it all now, but it covers the length of the scroll, the print small. Azula tugs open the other scrolls, tied with faded ribbon, and sees the same thing, year after year. _I’m so sorry I didn’t wake you up to say goodbye_ , is a line from the letter for her eighth birthday, and Azula blinks.   
  
“There’s a gift for every year leading up until this year,” Chan Li says, breaking her out of her reverie. He lifts a golden locket, similar to the one he carries. “Here’s the gift for this year. There’s a letter too.”  
  
“The letters appear authentic as well,” Azula muses, carefully inspecting the letter that came with her eighth birthday gift. “The scrolls show their age, and the ink does as well. The letters really were written years ago.” She hesitates, picking up the gift for her fifteenth birthday. “She remembered me. Every year. Enough to buy these gifts, write these letters, and carry it all around with her until she saw me again, whenever that may have been.”   
  
“Of course she did,” Chan Li says gently. “I’m sure that if you asked her, she would say that she remembered you every day.”   
  
Azula sets the gifts and the letters back inside the box, to be read later. She feels strangely warm inside, and she smiles at Lan Min, who is chewing on one of her blocks. “Shall we go for our walk?”  
  
Lan Min drops the block and reaches out to her, and Azula stands and picks her up, cradling her against her shoulder. Chan Li calls the dog to him, and the four of them set out together.  
  
They take a leisurely walk through the rose garden, which is in full bloom. Each rosebush stands as high as Chan Li’s shoulder, and there are thousands of roses, from small ones the size of Lan Min’s fist, to enormous blossoms half the size of Azula’s face. The variation in colors is equally dramatic, ranging from snow-white to dark, rich purple. Lan Min is delighted by the fallen petals blanketing the grass and the way her father presses them into her hands and brushes them against her face. There is a gentle breeze in the air, and each time it blows, it carries the scent of the roses with it. Lan Min nestles against her shoulder, smiling, and Chan Li puts his arm around her, and Azula feels content, secure, happy.  
  
They take a break when they arrive at the fountain, stopping underneath a magnificently flowering plum tree laden with white blossoms. With a dramatic flourish, Chan Li unclasps his cloak and spreads it out under the tree to form a makeshift blanket, gesturing gallantly at the improvised seating area. Azula rolls her eyes at him and sits, holding Lan Min on her lap. Rao settles next to them, and Lan Min reaches out and places her hand on Rao’s back. “So dramatic,” she says. “Have you ever thought of performing on the stage?”  
  
“You know, I had almost forgotten until now, but Renshu and I had a theatrical routine we performed on the ship, during the intermission on Music Night,” Chan Li says pensively. “It was a two-person adaptation of select scenes from _Love Amongst the Dragons_.”  
  
Azula chokes back laughter. “You don’t say.”  
  
Chan Li nods seriously. “We should perform it for you and Xue sometime. Now that we all live in the palace, I’m sure that we can find better props than bedsheets, mops, and an owl statuette.”  
  
“…An owl statuette?”  
  
“A stand-in for the Dark Water Spirit.”  
  
“Ah. I’ll let you know about that performance,” Azula replies, straight-faced. “If I ever have a particularly grim council meeting, I’m sure watching your acting will cheer me up immediately.”   
  
Chan Li makes a face at her. “I’ll have you know that my performances had a certain amount of dramatic heft. What would you say if I told you my monologue about love lost once drove Captain Ying-Pei to tears?”  
  
Azula deliberates for a moment. “I would ask how much your captain had been drinking that night.”  
  
Chan Li clutches his chest in mock injury, and taking pity, Azula leans in and kisses him on the cheek. He wraps an arm around her, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “I love you,” he says. “Even though you doubt my abilities.”  
  
“I love you too,” Azula replies. “Even though you have very unconventional hobbies.”  
  
“Oh, this is just the tip of the iceberg,” Chan Li teases. “Wait until you hear about the beetle-fighting ring I had in my youth.”  
  
“Beetle fighting?” Azula asks, horrified, before leaning over her daughter and taking both of her hands. “Lan Min, as you grow older, please do not be strange like your father.”   
  
Lan Min giggles, which Azula takes as an ominous sign, but she hugs her daughter anyway. She feels so full inside, and not from the food. “I’m happy,” she says wonderingly. “I feel happy.”  
  
Chan Li cups her face in one hand, and smiles until his eyes crinkle. “I will never, ever get tired of hearing you say that.”  
  
“Good.” Azula smooths Lan Min’s small ponytail with one hand, absorbed in thought. “She will be with me for all the rest of my birthdays,” she muses. “As long as I live. It is a nice thought.”   
  
“Spirits willing,” Chan Li says automatically, reaching out and holding Lan Min’s hand. “And yes, it is. Speaking of which…” He reaches into the pocket of his discarded cloak, withdrawing a red box. “I have something for you.”   
  
“You didn’t have to,” Azula protests. “You gave me that ornamental hair comb when I was pregnant with Lan Min.”  
  
“I know, but I wanted to,” Chan Li says, pressing the box into her hand. It is oddly heavy. “Here.”  
  
Azula pulls the lid off the box, expecting to see a book. Instead, she is faced with a hard slab of ivory clay, a sort of plaque, and her lips part in wordless surprise. She sees two small, familiar, beloved handprints pressed into the clay, beside two equally familiar little footprints. And in Chan Li’s careful script, an inscription with Lan Min’s name and the date.   
  
“A keepsake,” he says. “Of her infancy. For your office, or wherever you wanted to put it—“  
  
Azula carefully sets the plaque aside and hugs him. “Thank you,” she murmurs.  
  
Chan Li strokes her hair. “You’re welcome. And you’re a great mother. Lan Min will be able to tell you that herself in a few years.”  
  
“You’re more than adequate yourself,” Azula says, patting his hand. It’s easier to say that than _You’re the best father a child could hope for, and I wish my father had loved me half as much as you love and cherish our daughter._   
  
She can tell that Chan Li understands, and he smiles at her. “Speaking of _more than adequate_ ,” he says, squeezing her hand. “Since you ate your mother’s cooking - I was wondering if I could make something for you sometime. I used to fill in for the ship’s cook when he was sick.”  
  
Azula looks at him skeptically. He’s told her horror stories of the food on naval ships. “What did you have in mind? Scrambled fish-octopus brains? Salmon liver?”   
  
“Nothing as bad as all that,” Chan Li protests. “Just skilly and duff.”  
  
Azula’s eyebrows shoot up. “What? I refuse to eat anything with such a ridiculous name. Is that even our language?”  
  
“It is,” Chan Li insists. “It’s a savory pudding made with sea snails and sea plums.“  
  
Azula gags. “Absolutely not.”  
  
“It’s really not that bad,” Chan Li says placatingly. “Squid ink soup is far worse.”   
  
“So says the man who likes pistachio-flavored ice cream,” Azula sniffs. She holds Lan Min up. “You can make your seafood delicacies for our daughter when she’s older. As she tries to eat pajamas and wooden blocks, I’m sure she won’t object to sea snail and sea plum pudding. Right, Lan Min?”  
  
Lan Min beams, and the three of them dissolve into laughter.  
  
-  
  
 _to be continued_  
  
-  
  
As always, thank you so much to everybody who left their comments on the last chapter. I had planned to move straight from Azula and Ursa’s reunion into the next significant plot event, Zuko and Mai’s wedding, but Mell’s comment inspired me to write a little interlude of family time. After so many chapters of Azula suffering and in pain, it was nice to finally be able to write her enjoying happiness and peace.  
  
Next time: Zuko and Mai get married, and Azula is reunited with an old friend, who is a guest at the wedding…   
  
  



	36. Part 36

“Now,” Ty Lee says, facing her class, “Let’s finish up with some deep breathing. Bring your arms in and out. Inhale, and exhale. One,” she counts, taking a moment to admire her pupils’ faces. They look so relaxed and serene. “Two…three…four…five…six…seven…and eight.”   
  
She places her hands on her knees and smiles at her class. “I hope you all have a beautiful evening,” she says. “Stay happy, stay healthy, and I’ll see you again tomorrow! Bye, everyone! Take care!”  
  
Her students give her a chorus of thank-yous, which make her beam from ear to ear. Ty Lee hops out of her chair, rushing to help her students out of theirs. The younger students in the chair yoga class, the ones in their sixties and seventies, usually don’t need assistance. Over the past few months, she’s received an influx of older students, much to her delight. Mr. Huojin had told the members of his Pai Sho circle about how much he enjoyed her class, and a lot of them had joined as well. Ty Lee hands Mrs. Lan, Mrs. Chin, and Mrs. Yunxu their canes, rolls Mr. Xiaobao and Mrs. Nianxu’s walkers over to them, and gently lifts Ms. Guowei and Mrs. Fu back into their wheeled chairs.   
  
Mrs. Fu pats her on the hand. “Thank you, my dear,” she says. “Those wrist and finger exercises you do are very helpful. I can knit without getting so stiff now.”  
  
Ty Lee claps. “That’s great! And about your sculpting, have you tried using that pink Mahua desert clay I told you about? It’s way softer than normal red and white clay. I think you’d like it.”  
  
“My grandson said he would pick some up for me from the craft store this weekend. I hope he doesn’t forget. Oh! Speaking of forgetting…” Mrs. Fu reaches for the woven pouch attached to the arm of her chair, pulling out a yellowed scroll. “Here’s that mango cookie recipe I promised you a week ago.”  
  
“Thank you! I can’t wait to make these.” She opens the scroll, scanning the list of ingredients. “I’ve had mango cake and mango tarts, but never mango cookies.”  
  
Mrs. Fu shakes her head disapprovingly. “I wish you would just let me make them for you. Everyone says that my cookies are the best on the island. I won the annual baking competition at the Hanami Festival for ten years straight, you know.”   
  
“I’m sure your cookies are incredible, but I want to learn how to make them myself,” Ty Lee says enthusiastically. “Baking is the only creative art I haven’t dabbled in.”   
  
Mrs. Fu squints at her. “I ran into Po at the market and she said you nearly burnt the house down when you tried to make those moon cakes for the other girls.”  
  
“ _Nearly_ ,” Ty Lee emphasizes. “I put out the fire before it left the stove!” Her house mother, Po, hadn’t let her hear the end of it for days.   
  
Mrs. Fu sighs. “Well, be careful this time,” she says. “We can’t lose you. You’re the best instructor we’ve had.”  
  
Ty Lee smiles. “Thank you, Mrs. Fu. Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you back home?”  
  
“I’m fine,” her older friend says. “I’m stopping by Matsui’s house, anyway, and it’s just on the next street.”  
  
Ty Lee waves to her as she goes. She spends some time straightening up her small, beloved studio, neatly stacking the chairs and sweeping the floors. She will teach another class the next morning, a yoga class especially for Kyoshi Island’s pregnant women. After the women’s class, she will receive a class of students from the nearby primary school, and lead them through an hour of vigorous exercise. Afternoons are especially fun. She leaves the studio to teach history at the primary school and help out the teachers for a while, and then she returns to the studio in time for the last class of the day, her chair yoga class for the island’s elders.   
  
When she had first talked to Suki about moving to Kyoshi Island and joining the Warriors, Suki explained that becoming involved with the community and taking on a leadership role would be the best way to integrate. The prospect had made her nervous at first, causing many sleepless nights on the trip over here, but everyone had been so kind and welcoming. True to Mai’s prediction, she had made fast friends with the other girls at Po’s boarding house, the rest of the Kyoshi Warriors, and…well, just about everybody in the village, from the vendors at the market to the postmen. After almost six months, Kyoshi Island feels like home.  
  
The weather is beautiful outside, the evening sun warm on her back, the breeze rustling the leaves. Ty Lee enjoys every moment of the walk back home. She waves at a group of students, trudging home late from an after-school study group, and makes a brief detour at the market to refill some of the hummingbird feeders at the park with sweet nectar. She is rewarded by catching a glimpse of a pair of tiny hummingbirds, brilliant blue in color, and she sings them a little song before going on her way.   
  
At the end of the day, Po’s boarding house is always a welcome sight. The house is incredibly old, three stories, somewhat lopsided in appearance, and painted a startling shade of yellow, which had endeared Ty Lee to the place at once.  Even better, there is a friend parked outside the house today, sitting on his bicycle and rummaging through the large woven bag he carries over his shoulder. “Eto!” Ty Lee calls, waving. “Hi! How are you?”  
  
Eto Teika is one of the post delivery men, and a fellow member of the weekend bird-watching club. He waves back. “I’m fine,” he says. “I’m glad the sun’s back out this week! How were your classes today?”  
  
“Awesome,” Ty Lee says, with feeling. “The kids are loving their dance lessons. I think it helps them burn off all that negative energy from math class.”  
  
Eto winces. “Please don’t remind me of math class,” he says. “By the way, I have something for you today, a letter from your friend in the Fire Nation. It’s extra fancy. It came on a _golden_ scroll. Everyone in the office wanted to touch it.”  
  
Ty Lee perks up. Mai’s stationary is usually a nondescript shade of gray. A golden scroll can only mean one thing. “You don’t say?”   
  
Eto sticks his arm deep inside the giant bag, an expression of intense concentration on his face, and finally withdraws her mail. There is one of Mai’s gray scrolls, which arrives like clockwork every month, but it is bound to a glimmering golden scroll tied with thick silk ribbon in a deep scarlet, the emblem of the Fire Nation royal family embossed on it.   
  
Ty Lee manages to restrain herself from shrieking in glee until Eto waves goodbye and pedals off down the street. She unties the ribbon and pulls open the golden scroll in one sharp movement. She knows what she’s going to see, or at least she thinks she does, but that doesn’t make the moment any less sweet.   
  
_The Fire Nation Royal Family requests the honor of your presence at the marriage of Fire Lord Zuko to Lady Mai Minamoto, daughter of—_  
  
and Ty Lee doesn’t get past the first line. She rolls the scroll up again, hugs it to her chest, and sets off toward the dojo at the run, the thought of an evening snack and cup of tea forgotten. She makes it there in record time, bursting through the doors with a loud crash and startling Suki so much that the older girl whirls around, brandishing her broom in a fighting stance.   
  
“It’s just me!” Ty Lee says, throwing her hands up in surrender. “But hey, if you want to spar, let me grab that mop and we can make it an even fight.”  
  
Suki sets the broom aside. “I’ll take you up on that sometime. I bet that the kids would get a kick out of it,” she says, noting her acolyte’s eager, flushed face. “What’s up?”  
  
Ty Lee shows her the scroll. “I got an invitation to Zuko and Mai’s wedding - I’m sure yours is in the mail at your place, it just got here today - and I wanted to ask you if I could please please _please_ go, and I’ll ask Tian-Tian to cover my lessons at the school and I’ll ask Iwane if she’ll cover my yoga classes, and I know it’s going to be in summer around the time of the Awa Odori Matsuri festival, but I promise that I’ll do extra to help out when the fall festival comes around, and—“  
  
Suki laughs. “Take a second and breathe, Ty Lee! Of course you can go. I thought it would be a nice gesture to send a team of five as representatives from Kyoshi Island, and I decided months ago that you would be one of them. You’ve done a wonderful job since the day you arrived here, and you deserve a break.”   
  
Ty Lee’s entire body sags in relief. Then she recovers, and tackles Suki in a hug so forceful that she lifts her off the ground. “You’re the best,” she says, her voice muffled by Suki’s deep green robes. “I’m going to make you _so_ many mango cookies.”  
  
“I’m looking forward to it.” Suki giggles. “But try not to burn the house down this time, okay?”  
  
“I won’t! Thank you, Suki. Really, thank you so much.”   
  
Ty Lee deposits her on the ground, bows to her deeply, throws her a military-style salute, and then dashes off as fast as she had arrived. Suki leans on her broom and sighs. She looks out for all her girls like a mother or an elder sister. Ty Lee is no exception, even though she’s a newcomer. When the initial excitement subsides…which could take a while, knowing Ty Lee…she needs to ask her if she’s going to be okay with this - going back to the Fire Nation, and seeing Azula. A reunion like that would be difficult under any circumstances, but even more so considering that Azula is married with a child. If she were in Ty Lee’s place, it would be a struggle.  
  
Suki finishes cleaning, deep in thought. Before leaving, as she always does, she bows to the portrait of Avatar Kyoshi on the wall. She asks for Avatar Kyoshi to look out for all her daughters, all her warriors, and keep them as safe as possible from harm and pain. Suki thinks of all the Kyoshi Warriors, past and present, during her prayer. Today, she can’t help but linger on the name of the newest addition to their family.  
  
-  
  
Mai knocks thrice on the door. After twenty seconds, it opens.   
  
“Well, don’t just stand there,” Azula says, as ever the consummate, gracious hostess. “You can come in.”   
  
Mai enters, tucking her arms into her sleeves. “Hello to you too,” she says, and then glances around curiously. The royal suite is strangely quiet. Namely, she wasn’t greeted by the rampaging Rao, always eager to jump on her and bark exuberantly into her ear. “Where’s the dog?”   
  
“With Chan Li and Lan Min, visiting the city orphanage.” Azula closes the door, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and leads her to the sitting room. “Chan Li wanted to take a special dinner over there tonight for the children. Speaking of dinner, we’re having crab soup, eel cakes, and ginger noodles tonight.”   
  
“That’s nice,” Mai says cautiously. After the wedding, as the Royal Consort, she will have to start doing the kind of humanitarian work Chan Li does. The thought makes her nervous. She’s never been good with children, or the underprivileged, or…well, people in general, really. “Do you ever go to the orphanage with him?” She can’t imagine Azula socializing with large numbers of children, but stranger things have happened, she supposes. Like Azula actually having a child she’s incredibly fond of.   
  
Azula sits, and Mai takes a seat across from her. “I never have before, but I’m going on Children’s Day. I will be presenting a short speech on how children are the future of the Fire Nation.”   
  
Mai raises an eyebrow. “Wow.”   
  
“Mother and Chan Li talked me into it,” Azula admits, with some reluctance.   
  
“Yeah, your mom is over there a lot, isn’t she?”  
  
Azula nods, dipping her eel cakes into the spicy sauce. “She enjoys it. She’s splitting her time evenly between the orphanage and cooking for the food bank now.”   
  
Mai sighs. “I could probably learn from her. Actually, a lot of noblemen and women could.”  
  
“Apparently, Ozai never allowed her to go out among the people like this,” Azula ventures, after a few moments. “She was able to sit on charitable committees, but that was the extent of the involvement he allowed. She’s in her element now.” Azula grimaces. “The next thing you know, she’ll be picking up litter from the streets.”   
  
Mai smiles slightly. Not just because of Ursa, but for the fact that Ursa and Azula are speaking regularly enough, and in enough depth, for Azula to know all of this. “That’s good. I’m glad she’s happy.”  
  
“Do you want to hear something incredibly disturbing, though?”   
  
“I don’t know,” Mai says warily. “Do I?”  
  
“Apparently, there are several unmarried lords that are flocking around her. _Flocking_.” Azula scowls at her, as if trying to impress upon her the severity of the situation. “Or trying to, at least.”  
  
Mai swallows a too-hot mouthful of crab soup, startled. “What? No way.”   
  
“It’s true.” Azula spears an eel cake with some viciousness. “She said that every time she returns home, she has a dozen messages from this lord or that, requesting the pleasure of her company over dinner.”  
  
“Ugh.” Mai frowns. “She hasn’t mentioned it to Zuko yet, thank goodness.”  
  
“Because she said that Zuzu would have a conniption,” Azula smirks. “I think the exact words she used were, _Your brother will send them into exile over trying to prey on his poor, vulnerable, elderly mother_.”   
  
Mai spares a moment to picture it. “Yeah, that’s about right.”  
  
“They’re all barking up the wrong tree, of course,” Azula says, with confidence. “Zuzu has nothing to worry about. She says she’ll never remarry.”  
  
“Completely understandable, considering…you know.”   
  
“Yes.” A momentary shadow passes over Azula’s face. “Quite.”  
  
Mai fidgets, setting her spoon down. She’s been dreading this all day. “By the way,” she says. “About weddings - I got a letter from Ty Lee today. She said that she’ll be coming to the wedding, as part of the island’s delegation of Kyoshi Warriors.”  
  
Azula had been reaching for her glass of water, and her hand stills momentarily. “Of course,” she says, recovering quickly, and she actually manages to shoot her a sardonic look. “How nice. You should have one friend present.”   
  
It had just been a typical Azula joke, but Mai feels a brief pang at the thought that Azula hadn’t had any friends at her wedding. No friends and no family to share in what was supposed to be one of the most important days in a woman’s life. She had been completely alone.   
  
“Do you…” Mai begins, hating how awkward this is. To her horror, she thinks she’s turning red. “I mean, are you…”  
  
Azula looks at her balefully. “You’re going to be a royal consort in four months, Mai. You’ll have to work on your articulation skills.”   
  
“Fine! Spirits, you’re insufferable.” Mai glares at her. “What I was trying to say was, are you going to be okay? With Ty Lee being here?”  
  
Azula takes a bite of noodles, avoiding her gaze. “Yes,” she says shortly. “I’ll be fine.”  
  
Mai folds her napkin in her lap, deciding to take the risk of Azula snapping at her. “Are you sure? I’ll do everything I can to make sure you guys are as far apart as possible throughout the whole time if you want.”  
  
“That isn’t necessary. You should focus on enjoying this time and not stress yourself with such matters.”  
  
Mai blinks, utterly taken aback. “…Did you just say something nice to me?”  
  
“I have had time to prepare myself for this, and I still have four months,” Azula says. She’s still not quite meeting her gaze. “Besides, I am happily married, and I have no reason to be upset or distressed over seeing a former friend again.”   
  
Mai feels her chest hurt a little. “Azula…”  
  
“I do not want or need your pity, Mai,” Azula says, with unusual softness. “Chan Li loves me, and he’s never been anything but kind to me. He is the best ally I could ask for. And I have Lan Min. If anything, I have been extraordinarily lucky.”  
  
Mai hesitates. Despite the fact that she has a million questions that she could ask, she and Azula never talk about this. It’s too uncomfortable.  “You really are happy with him,” she says. “Everyone can see that.” _And we had all been surprised by it, too,_ she reflects privately. “Is it…I mean, was it hard? I think of doing what you did, and I don’t think I could have gone through with it. I would have run away.”   
  
Azula pauses, as if weighing whether to answer or not. “It is hard,” she says, in a rare moment of candor. “I try to suppress it as much as I can, but it is almost impossibly difficult to prefer women, and know that my preferences are something I will never, ever be able to act on while keeping my honor intact.”  
  
“That’s…” Mai struggles to find the words. _That’s awful_ , had been her initial reaction, but it seems insensitive to say it so bluntly, and the next question slips out of her before she can hold it back. “…How do you do it?”  
  
Azula blinks, as if startled by the question.   
  
“Sorry,” Mai mumbles. “That was really personal. I shouldn’t have.”  
  
“No,” Azula says, her eyes clouded with thought. She sounds so far away. “It’s…fine. It actually might be nice to talk about it. I’ve never spoken about it with anyone, of course.”  
  
“Of course,” Mai stammers, taken aback by the fact that Azula is confiding in her for the second time in one night. Her secret must be more of a burden to her than she ever lets on.   
  
“It’s willpower, mostly,” Azula says, after some time. “Mind over matter. I suppress that part of me as completely as I am able. Marrying a man did seem impossible to me at first, but I always knew on some level that it had to be done, if I were to be Fire Lord. Chan Li made it easier by being the person that he is. I suppose his personality and his kind nature helped me see past the fact that he was the wrong gender. He helped me through everything that happened with Ozai, and I became attached to him.”  
  
She hesitates. “When I was younger, I used to hope that my husband would live long enough that we could have a child to ensure the succession, and then die and leave me alone to rule, and to do what I wished in my personal life - privately, of course. And now…if anything happened to Chan Li, I would be devastated.”  
  
Mai looks at her, at a loss for words.    
  
“In any case, I’ll be fine,” Azula repeats, her voice returning to its usual firmness. “I am glad that you and Ty Lee will have the chance to see one another again.”  
  
Before she can think better of it, Mai stands up from her chair. She walks to Azula’s side of the table, and she does something that she never thought she would ever do again. Tentatively, she wraps her arms around Azula’s shoulders and gives her the world’s most awkward hug. As much as Azula can be difficult, at best, and an absolute nightmare at worst, she has gone through more than many people do in a lifetime. But instead of breaking under the strain, she has remained strong.   
  
Azula stiffens with surprise, but she returns the embrace. “Thank you,” she says softly. “You were never repulsed by me, by Ty Lee and I. As much as I hated you, I never forgot that.”  
  
Mai swallows over the tightness in her throat, recovers her composure, and returns to her seat. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been repulsed by you many times,” she says coolly, picking up her chopsticks. “But not for that. More for your astounding lack of any moral code whatsoever.”   
  
Azula sneers at her, returning to her eel cakes. “Just for that, I’m going to tell your mother that I agree with her, and that you should in fact have a pink wedding gown.”  
  
“You wouldn’t,” Mai replies, appalled.   
  
“I would,” Azula says, with sadistic glee. “And I’ll tell her that you should wear gold floral jewelry in your hair.”  
  
“Has anyone told you that you are really the worst person ever?”  
  
-  
  
The four months pass in a blur of teaching, training with the Kyoshi Warriors, and spending time with her new friends, and before Ty Lee knows it, she is boarding the ship that will take her back to the Fire Nation for Mai’s wedding.   
  
There are merchant ships that travel from Kyoshi Island to the mainland Earth Kingdom, and then on to the Fire Nation, but the band of five Kyoshi Warriors sails this small ship themselves. Suki had said that it would be a good team-building activity, and as usual, she is right. Ty Lee has never actually been part of the crew on a ship before, only a passenger. It’s great fun, even better than the pirate novels that she used to read when she had been traveling with the circus. They are blessed with perfect weather, clear skies, and calm seas. At night, after dinner, they count the iridescent jellyfish-eagles that they see in the dark seas, and then sit together on the deck and tell stories. Ty Lee regales her fellow warriors with tales of the many hauntings in the Fire Nation royal palace, as well as dramatic retellings of urban legends from the capital city. In turn, she listens to the other girls’ stories of Omashu and Ba Sing Se and the other large Earth Kingdom cities, and shudders at the thought of frog-alligators in the sewers.   
  
They dock at the harbor in the capital city at the same time as three other large diplomatic delegations from the mainland Earth Kingdom arrive. It can best be described as low-grade chaos, and Ty Lee is grateful for the endless chatter of introductions and greetings that take up the carriage ride to the palace. She’s so excited to see Mai and Zuko again, but it’s just weird to be back in the Fire Nation, and to be going back to the palace. She has so many childhood memories there, of spending time with Mai and Azula and—  
  
Ty Lee throws herself into a conversation with the governor of Omashu in order to distract herself until they arrive.   
  
The palace had always been grand, but it is decorated splendidly for the wedding, inside and out. She has never seen it so magnificent. Ty Lee stares, wide-eyed, as guards usher them to the Hall of Dragons. She really just wants to go see Mai, like right now, but Suki had said there would probably be some formal address to the Earth Kingdom visitors to get through first. Ty Lee is standing between Suki and Iori and thinking about lunch and what Mai’s wedding dress is going to look like, when one of the guards walks to the front of the room, and everyone falls silent.   
  
“Prince Chan Li, of the Fire Nation,” the guard announces, and Ty Lee nearly falls over.  
  
He walks into the room without any pomp or circumstance, and he smiles at the crowd and bows respectfully. “Welcome to the Fire Nation. On behalf of the royal family, I would like to say that we are honored by your presence, and…”  
  
Ty Lee barely listens. She just stares.   
  
It’s a little embarrassing - okay, a lot embarrassing, but this man - Chan Li, who probably doesn’t know she even exists - has occupied so much of her head space ever since she had learned of Azula’s marriage. She doesn’t even want to think about how many hours she’s spent thinking about him. The man who had married Azula, who had spent every day and every night with her, who got to listen to her talk and watch her when she worked and thought and made plans. For a long time, it had made her stomach clench up to think that Chan Li would know Azula more intimately than she ever would. It still kind of does.  
  
She had wondered about whether he was nice and good, and what kind of person he was, besides that. Was he funny? Was he boring? She had wondered about what he looked like, and whether he looked old, since he was fifteen years older than Azula, after all. She had wondered about whether he would understand Azula’s thoughts and moods and how to help her feel better when she was upset, and how to distract her when she needed some levity.  
  
After Mai met Chan Li, she had sent her a letter, which helped a lot. _He’s about six feet tall. He has messy hair, a scar on his chin, and he looks like an older version of his younger brother, the one we met on Ember Island. He doesn’t look too old, though. I wouldn’t have guessed that he was thirty-one if I didn’t know it already. I don’t get the impression that he’s particularly smart, to be honest, but he’s a decent person. He’s nice to everybody, genuinely friendly, and he immediately tried to make Zuko and I feel welcome and at ease. Personality-wise, he’s the complete opposite of Azula, but he obviously cares for her, and he’s very respectful of her._  
  
Yes, the letter had helped. But seeing him in person is another thing entirely. Ty Lee has always been good at reading people. She looks at the smile lines around Chan Li’s eyes and his mouth, the relaxed set of his shoulders, and the casual, open movements of his hands, and she listens to the unpretentious way he speaks. He’s not the most polished orator. He says _uh_ and _um_ on occasion, which would horrify Azula.   
  
Most importantly, Ty Lee sees his aura. It is a warm, gentle yellow-orange, like the glow of candlelight. It is soft, uncomplicated, and free of shadows. It is steady. It tells her all that she needs to know.  
  
She relaxes, and she smiles.  
  
After the address is over, one of the guards approaches her - a little cautiously, since it must be hard to distinguish her from the other Kyoshi Warriors. “Ty Lee?”  
  
“Yes, that’s me!” She smiles brightly to put him at ease, and he looks relieved.  
  
“Lady Mai wanted to know if you would join her for lunch.”  
  
Ty Lee looks at Suki, who grins at her. “Go and have fun,” Suki says. “We’ll see you later.”   
  
She waves goodbye to her friends and follows the guard out of the Hall of Dragons, trying to keep herself from skipping in excitement. After a torturously slow and measured walk, they arrive at Mai’s door. The guard hasn’t even finished his first knock on the door when it flies open, and Ty Lee finds herself face-to-face with her best friend for the first time in a year.  
  
“ _Finally_ ,” Mai says, the two syllables carrying so much relief, more emotion than she ever hears in Mai’s voice, and Ty Lee leaps forward and hugs her tight.   
  
“You look amazing! I can’t believe that you’re going to be married in four days!”  
  
Mai pulls back, a small smile on her face. “You look good too. The green suits you. How was the trip over here?”  
  
“It was good! We sailed our own ship, and it was _so_ much fun. You won’t believe how many jellyfish-eagles I saw. How are you? How’s Zuko?”  
  
Mai makes a face. “I am suffering,” she says emphatically. “I have _been_ suffering. Even people dragged by vengeful spirits into the darkest realms of the Spirit World have not suffered as I have suffered.”  
  
Ty Lee giggles. “I guess the wedding planning hasn’t been going too well?”  
  
Mai grips her arm. “I feel like I’m going to go insane. My mom has been driving me crazy since she got here a month ago. And _Zuko_ hasn’t had to sit through one minute of these eternal planning sessions because _he’s_ the man. And _he_ can just wear his Fire Lord robes on our wedding day and put his hair up like he normally does. It’s infuriating.”  
  
“Don’t worry,” Ty Lee consoles. “It’ll all be worth it. Aren’t you excited for the big day?”  
  
“I couldn’t care less about the wedding,” Mai says, leading her into the sitting room. “Literally the only thing that’s keeping me going is the thought of our wedding night.”  
  
Ty Lee takes a seat across from her and stares, astounded. “You mean that you guys still haven’t…”  
  
“No,” Mai says, a faint blush creeping up her neck. “I thought that we could, finally, after we were officially engaged, but Zuko and his _stupid_ honor—“  
  
Ty Lee coughs to hide a laugh. It’s unkind, because Mai has been waiting for years, really, but she has to admit that it’s a little bit funny.   
  
“He says that he wants our wedding night to be special,” Mai says, glowering.   
  
“I’m sure it will be!”   
  
“Zuko’s not even going to recognize me on our wedding day, what with all the makeup they’re going to slather on my face. Azula said that I needed some color, since I look _dreadfully washed out_. The ladies at the spa showed me an illustration of what my makeup’s going to look like.”  
  
“Lots of blush and lipstick that’s not nude or black?” Ty Lee asks sympathetically.   
  
“No black eyeliner, either,” is Mai’s glum reply. “Not even a single thin line. You can thank Azula for that, too. She hung around my mother all morning, making these supposedly innocent comments about how I should try a different look for the wedding.”  
  
It sounds very much like something Azula would do, and Ty Lee can’t help but smile. “How is she?”  
  
“Azula? The bane of my existence, as usual. She and my mom are responsible for my peach-colored monstrosity of a dress.” Mai sighs. “She’s fine. She’s really excited about some overhaul of financial systems that she’s been working on. She never shuts up about it. And she’s been really happy about Lan Min starting to walk and talk, too.”   
  
“Good,” Ty Lee says, trying to imagine what Azula’s little girl looks like, and whether she takes after Azula or Chan Li more. “I’m glad.”  
  
“Actually,” Mai says, looking at her sharply. “I should warn you. She knew you would be coming, obviously. But every time I asked her if she planned on seeing you or talking to you, or if she was going to avoid you, she just ignored me.”   
  
Ty Lee feels a small, nervous flutter in her chest. “Oh.”  
  
“And you remember how she ambushed me when I got here,” Mai says grimly. “So I just wanted to warn you that she might pull the same thing on you. Be aware. When you think you’re alone in your room, you might not be.”  
  
Ty Lee plucks at a loose thread on her robe. “You don’t think…”  
  
“No,” Mai says, at once. “She’s not angry at you. She asks about you quite civilly whenever I mention that I got a letter from you.”  
  
That makes her feel strangely warm inside. “Okay.” From the look on Mai’s face, she’s about to start asking uncomfortable questions, so Ty Lee immediately changes the topic. “How’s Princess Ursa?”  
  
Thankfully, Mai cooperates. “She’s nice,” she says.   
  
“That’s a huge step up from _I don’t hate her_ ,” Ty Lee teases. “That’s what you normally say when you like someone.”  
  
Mai scoffs. “Please. I like Ursa a lot more than I like my actual mother. You know, she said that I could call her Mom, since Zuko and I are going to be married.”  
  
“Wow,” Ty Lee says, impressed. Traditionally, mother-in-laws and daughter-in-laws in the Fire Nation noble families tend to have adversarial relationships. “Are you going to?”  
  
“I actually wouldn’t mind,” Mai replies. “…But I think Azula would push me off the palace roof if I did, so I’m going to have to pass.”  
  
Ty Lee tries not to laugh at the mental image. It’s nice to hear that Azula is apparently getting along with her mother.  
  
“But enough about me, seriously,” Mai says, shuddering. “How are you? Have you baked anything lately? Would you be up for sneaking into the kitchen tonight?”  
  
Ty Lee perks up. “Of course I would! And I made this amazing tomato pie the other week!”  
  
Mai gags. “Tomato pie? Seriously? Is that a Kyoshi Island thing?”  
  
“That’s what I thought at first!” Ty Lee exclaims. “But it’s really good, not all mushy and gross on the inside at all. The secret ingredient is tiger-goat cheese. And, oh, you’ll never guess who’s been stealing my eggplants from the garden…”  
  
-  
  
Two days pass, and Ty Lee doesn’t catch a single glimpse of Azula. She stops entering her room hesitantly, looking to see if anyone is already waiting there.   
  
She’s incredibly relieved and terribly disappointed at the same time. Even though it’s stupid of her to be disappointed, really. She should have expected that Azula would keep to herself in these days leading up to the wedding - if not for her presence, then for the fact that Aang, Katara, Sokka, Toph, and Uncle Iroh are here. _They’re never going to be her favorite people_ , Mai said, with unusual diplomacy, over dinner the other day. Besides, maybe it’s best that Azula stays away from her. She doesn’t want to make things difficult for her or bring back any memories that should stay suppressed.   
  
Ty Lee visits the Hall of Portraits late one night, after her friends have gone to bed, and looks up at the portraits of Azula. There’s one of her when she was just crowned Fire Lord, one of Azula and Chan Li after their marriage, and the most recent addition - a portrait of Azula and Zuko, standing side-by-side as rulers of the Fire Nation. She can’t hold back the wistful sigh that leaves her. It’s so bittersweet. All these chapters of Azula’s life, all these great changes that she missed. But Azula looks so beautiful in the portraits, and most importantly, in the last one, with her and Zuko - she looks at peace. Seeing her like this will have to be enough.  
  
Ty Lee reconciles herself to that. She wakes early the next morning and goes to her old favorite garden in the palace courtyards, as usual. It’s one of the best places to practice yoga she’s ever found in all of her world travels. It’s so quiet and isolated, so perfectly still, save for the chirping of the birds. There’s a pond in the middle of the garden and it’s covered in radiant white lilies.   
  
She is in the third stretch of her routine, focusing on her breathing and on the gentle stretch of her muscles, when she hears someone clear their throat softly.  
  
Ty Lee whirls around, and for a second, she thinks she’s dreaming. Azula stands at the entrance to the garden, magnificent in her Fire Lord robes. Ridiculously, the first thing Ty Lee notices is that she’s wearing her hair like Princess Ursa’s, half pulled into a topknot and the rest left to cascade loose down her back. She’s never seen Azula wear her hair like that before. And she’s only seen Azula look this uncertain once before, in the moments before their first kiss.   
  
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she says formally, more formally than she’s ever spoken to her.  
  
Part of her brain is saying _stupid_ and _inappropriate_ and _no no no_ , but Ty Lee’s feet are flying forward without her consent, and she throws her arms around Azula and hugs her tightly. She feels so warm and healthy and strong and real. Azula goes stiff with surprise, and then Ty Lee realizes what she’s done and freezes, her face burning with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry,” she manages, starting to let go. “I shouldn’t have.”  
  
“No,” Azula says, her voice so quiet that Ty Lee can barely hear her. “Don’t.”  
  
And she hugs her back. Azula wraps her arms around her and hugs her back. She’s taller now, they both are, and Ty Lee rests her cheek against Azula’s shoulder and tries not to weep.  
  
They stand like that for a long time. Finally, Ty Lee steps back, looking Azula in the eye, and it feels like her heart is breaking and finally whole at the same time. “Your aura,” she whispers, awed. The darkness, the bitter, shadowy, white-hot, angry twist of purples and blues that had always been a part of Azula, is gone. “It’s so different.”  
  
“So I’ve heard,” Azula says wryly.   
  
“I’m sorry,” Ty Lee blurts, blinking hard to keep back the tears. She’s been wanting to say this for so long. “I’m so sorry. About - about Ozai and everything that happened. I should have been here for you, and I hated that I wasn’t, and I’m sorry I didn’t even write when it happened, but I thought about you and prayed for you every day. I know it wasn’t enough, but it was all that I could do.”  
  
Azula looks away. “I thought you hated me,” she says. “You thought that I was going to kill Mai. The way you looked at me…”   
  
“I could never hate you,” Ty Lee whispers. “I was just scared.”   
  
Azula walks past her, standing at the edge of the pond. “You did the right thing,” she confesses, to the lilies.   
  
Ty Lee stares, taken aback. “What?”  
  
Azula doesn’t move. “I didn’t want to kill Mai,” she says. “I just wanted to scare her. I wanted to teach her a lesson. But I was enraged, and my emotions were unstable, and if I had summoned the lightning…I might have lost control.”  
  
The words hang heavily between them. Finally, Ty Lee joins Azula beside the pond. “I wish things had been different,” she says, and the words are a struggle around the tightness in her throat. “I wish that we had never gone to the Boiling Rock that day.”   
  
“Yes,” Azula says. “I do too.” Her voice wavers slightly. “But we have to believe that things worked out for the best. I have my family, and my throne. You have a new home where you can live openly. We will both have happiness.”  
  
Ty Lee nods, the movement jerky. “Yeah.”  
  
Azula turns to her sharply. “Are the Kyoshi Warriors kind to you? What about the other people on the island? Do they treat you well?”  
  
“They’re great!” Ty Lee hastens to assure her. “I feel more at home and more part of a family with the warriors than I ever did with my sisters. They’re such strong, amazing women, Azula. They’re one of a kind. Everyone on the island has been really friendly too. I’ve made a ton of friends.”  
  
“Good,” Azula says, relaxing somewhat. “I was concerned that you might be ostracized because of your background.”  
  
“No, it’s not like that at all. Everyone was really welcoming and tried to make me feel at home as soon as I got there. It does feel like home, now.”   
  
“That’s a relief.” Azula looks at her out of the corner of her eye. “I can’t get used to this color on you, though. It looks wrong.”   
  
“It took me a while, too.” Ty Lee smiles. “I wear lots of pink on the weekends. What about you, Azula?” she asks, with such enthusiasm that Azula looks startled. She can’t believe that she’s talking to Azula, as friends - it’s a dream come true. It’s something she never imagined would happen again. “How are you? Are you happy? Your mom is back, and you and Zuko are friends, and - and you have a baby, congratulations!”  
  
Azula gives her a small smile, and Ty Lee is struck speechless for a moment because she is so much more stunning in person than she had been in the portraits. The awe is followed by a wave of sickening jealousy, because Chan Li is the one who gets to see her smile all the time, and gets to touch her and hold her, and it is such an effort to fight that jealousy back.  
  
“I am happy,” Azula says, and Ty Lee can hear her sincerity. “Lan Min is delightful and a source of great pride to me. I look forward to raising her into adulthood and seeing what kind of person and Fire Lord she will become. And my mother is a different person entirely. She admitted that she played favorites when Zuko and I were young, and is committed to never doing so again. We may never be as close as she would like us to be, but at least we can be friends.”   
  
“Good,” Ty Lee says. She can’t even keep track of how many bitter tears Azula had shed over her mom, back when they were younger, and she’s smiling so hard her face hurts.   
  
“As for Zuko, he’s still an idiot,” Azula says matter-of-factly. “I hear what he’s doing with foreign policy and it frankly befuddles me. But it’s refreshing to be on relatively pleasant terms with him, as I have redirected the energy I spent on hating him to other pursuits.”  
  
Ty Lee giggles, and then grows serious again, a thought occurring to her. “And your husband?” she asks timidly. “I - I saw him when we first got here. He made a speech welcoming us to the Fire Nation. Mai said that you guys seemed really happy together, but I just wanted to ask you.”   
  
“We are,” Azula says simply. “You know, he reminds me very much of you.”  
  
“Oh,” Ty Lee says, feeling like she’s about to cry again.   
  
Azula looks up at the position of the rising sun. “I should go,” she says, and Ty Lee wonders if she’s imagining the reluctance in her voice. “My day is about to begin.”  
  
“Okay.” Ty Lee glances at the pond, blinking hard. “Thank you,” she manages. “I didn’t think we would talk, and I’m so happy that you came to see me.”  
  
“I am, too.” Azula reaches out tentatively, like she’s going to touch her face, and Ty Lee holds her breath. She rests her hand on her shoulder instead, the touch lingering for a moment. Then she turns around quickly and walks away, without looking back.  
  
-  
  
Seeing Ty Lee was supposed to help her feel better. It was supposed to scratch an itch; it was supposed to give her some peace and put her mind at rest.   
  
It makes her feel much worse.   
  
She keeps thinking of Ty Lee’s voice, and her face, and how that brief conversation had made her want to talk to her more. Azula reasons that these feelings are plausibly the feelings that one could have for a friend one has been separated from for a long time. That is acceptable.   
  
What is not acceptable is the dishonorable thoughts that crowd into her mind every single time it is idle, about how tempting it had been to reach for Ty Lee’s hand as they stood in the garden, about how _badly_ she had wanted to hold Ty Lee’s hand. About how soft and beautiful her dark brown hair looked, about how difficult it had been to let go of Ty Lee when she had hugged her.   
  
About how she had wanted to kiss her, and it had taken too much effort to stifle the temptation.   
  
It makes her feel nauseatingly guilty, especially when she thinks of Chan Li. When he smiles at her and puts his arm around her shoulders and hugs her close, she returns his embrace and thinks about how different he feels than Ty Lee and she hates it. Chan Li deserves better than that.   
  
“I know you’re stressed,” he tells her, one night before bed, resting a hand on her shoulder sympathetically. “But your uncle and the rest of Zuko’s friends will only be here for a little while longer. It’ll be okay.”  
  
Azula manages to summon the appropriate snide remark about her pathetic uncle and the rest of Zuko’s band of half-wits, and then she lies down under the covers and hates herself until she falls asleep.  
  
The only thing that gives her respite is firebending and spending time with Lan Min, holding her small hands and walking with her up and down the nursery and in the courtyards, hearing her say _Mama_ in her decisive little voice. Azula tries to console herself with the thought that there are only two days until the wedding, four until all the delegates leave. She can have some peace then. She can clear her mind and restore her equilibrium, returning things to how they should be.  
  
Azula distracts herself with the diversion of Mai and Zuko’s wedding as best as she is able, despite Ty Lee’s presence as the other one of the bride’s attendants. The three of them spend the day before the wedding indulging in thorough beauty treatments (in her and Ty Lee’s case) and suffering through them (in Mai’s case.) They lounge side-by-side in the spa with masks of rose petals and yogurt on their face as they have their nails painted in shimmering gold. It’s just like old times, but better. It’s strange, because so much has changed for the three of them, but Azula feels like they are closer than they ever were before. There is less resentment, and fewer things left unsaid.   
  
There is no time for her intrusive thoughts on the day of the wedding. The hours spent on getting ready, and helping the bride into all of her finery, pass in a blur of frenzied activity. There is only one moment where it strikes her, when Mai’s mother is fastening a diamond necklace around her neck, and Ursa is carefully straightening a jeweled pin in her hair. Ty Lee is fluttering around like a butterfly, and comes skipping across the suite to hand Mai a silk fan and brush a little extra blush on her cheeks. Everyone is talking at once, and the excitement in the atmosphere is palpable. There’s actually the slightest of smiles on Mai’s face, and Azula thinks back to her wedding, and how alone she had felt. She wonders what it would have been like to be happy on her wedding day.  
  
Then she glances at Ty Lee out of the corner of her eye - Ty Lee, who is radiant with happiness, and the only one of them who will never have a traditional Fire Nation wedding.   
  
Her mother and Mai’s leave the room shortly afterward to check on some detail or another for the following dinner and celebration, and Mai does something uncharacteristic. She takes Azula’s hand in one of hers, and Ty Lee’s in the other. “I’m really happy that both of you are here,” she says, determinedly avoiding looking at either of them. Azula cannot remember Mai ever saying the words I’m really happy before. Ever. “Thank you.”  
  
Ty Lee throws her arms around them and hugs them so tightly that they both shriek in protest.   
  
-  
  
During the ceremony, Azula and Chan Li stand with her mother underneath the ceremonial pavilion for the most honored and high-ranking guests. On the other side of her mother are her uncle and Zuko’s friends, all of whom Azula refuses to make eye contact with. Ursa looks at Mai and Zuko, who stand with their hands clasped and appear bored to death by the Fire Sages’ droning, and dabs at her eyes with a handkerchief. She has been tearful all day. Earlier, Azula had walked in on her crying in Mai’s shoe closet.   
  
“Careful, Mother,” Azula says, in an undertone. “You might dehydrate yourself.”  
  
Ursa turns to her, blinking hard. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m just so happy. And I keep thinking about how much I wish I could have been here for your wedding. It was all I could think about when I was helping Mai get ready.”  
  
Well, she hadn’t expected that. Azula opens her mouth to speak, and can’t quite find the words.   
  
“That and Lan Min’s birth.” Her mother admits, wiping her eyes again. “You might have another child in the future, and I hope to be there to help you through that, but you’ll never have another wedding day.”  
  
Azula awkwardly pats her mother on the shoulder and casts a look at Chan Li in a silent appeal for his assistance. Thankfully, her uncle makes a comment that distracts her mother, something inane about how proud he is of Zuko. She rolls her eyes, hoping for a bolt of lightning to strike that side of the pavilion, and Chan Li takes her arm.   
  
“She’s right,” he says quietly. “I’ve been thinking about our wedding all day too.”  
  
Azula looks up at him. “I’ve been remembering it as well.”   
  
Chan Li tries to smile, but there is sadness in his eyes. “We were both so upset and afraid. Well, maybe you weren’t,” he hastens to add. “But I was. I can’t help but think of how we felt in contrast to how Zuko and Mai do.”   
  
Azula looks at where Mai and Zuko stand, and remembers her and Chan Li in their place, more than two years ago. It feels like an eternity. They have been through so much together. “We had no way of knowing that it was going to work out,” she says.  
  
“So,” Chan Li says, drawing the word out, and squeezing her hand. “You admit it worked out?”  
  
Azula nudges him in the ribs, trying not to smile. “Stop making bad jokes and listen to the Fire Sages.”   
  
“I will,” he says, straight-faced. “Promise you’ll catch me when I fall asleep?”  
  
-  
  
The following wedding festivities are as overwhelming as preparation for the wedding had been. Azula notes that there are easily twice as many guests as had been present at her wedding, and unfortunately, a good half of them are foreigners from the Earth Kingdom and the Water Tribes. There are spectacular fireworks displays in the courtyard, a ninety-piece orchestra playing, and ceremonial dancers in elaborate costumes, and enough food and drink to feed a small city. Spirits are high all around, and it gives her a bit of a headache.  
  
She shares one dance with Zuko anyway, and glowers at him as he spins her around. “Mai is the best thing that ever happened to you,” she says. “You are not to tell her I said that. Don’t ever hurt her the way you did when you broke up with her, or you will have to answer to me.”  
  
“You know, Azula,” Zuko says, unruffled. “That was kind of sweet.”  
  
Azula scowls and purposefully steps on his feet. He grins, twirls her around again, and hands her off to Chan Li at the end of their dance. The two of them dance together, Chan Li with his typical exuberance and Azula with considerably more restraint, until the music changes. The taiko drum beats and Tsungi horn are replaced with bamboo flutes and delicate wooden percussion, and Azula pauses, struck by the familiar tune. The Dance of the Su Zhou Tiger-Bats, based on an old Fire Nation legend of two tiger-bat spirits that were lifelong friends. Traditionally, it is known as an ode to friendship.  
  
She can already see friends pairing up. Zuko is defying tradition by dancing with two partners, the Avatar and the boomerang-wielding Water Tribe peasant, as Mai leads the small blind earthbender onto the dance floor. Someone clears his throat behind her, and Azula turns to see Chan Li’s best friend Renshu. He bows to her, face alight with his usual good humor. “Fire Lord,” he says respectfully. “I was wondering if I could borrow Chan Li for this dance.”   
  
Azula glances at her husband, who is almost hopping with eagerness at the prospect of sharing a dance partner who shares his enjoyment of quick, sudden movements and overly enthusiastic spins. “Try not to crash into the banquet tables,” she advises, before withdrawing to the nearest banquet table herself. She has no friends to share this dance with, and she may as well sample one of the coconut cakes. She is reaching for a slice when she happens to look across the hall and catches sight of Ty Lee, holding a small bowl of pudding and watching the other dancers.   
  
There is a warning gong being struck in her head telling her that this is a bad idea. It tells her to just stay where she is and let the Kyoshi Warrior walking over to Ty Lee get there first, but Azula finds herself making her way across the hall nevertheless. She reaches Ty Lee just before the Kyoshi Warrior does, and holds her hand out to her old friend. Her ex-partner. Her hand is steady, despite how she feels, and Ty Lee’s eyes are round with surprise.   
  
“May I have this dance?” Azula asks formally.  
  
She can tell that Ty Lee is remembering the same thing she is - all the times they had danced to this song when they were younger. Ty Lee places her hand in hers, and it trembles a little, but she smiles and it lights up her entire face with such joy. “Of course.”  
  
It is a mistake, just as Azula expected it would be. Ty Lee’s hands feel so soft and so right clasped with her own, and just the perfect size, and the temptation to pull Ty Lee close and place her palm against her face is so terrible that she wants to scream. She looks stunning in her green silk gown, and her movements are as effortlessly graceful, as beautiful, as they have ever been. It’s been years since they have danced together, but their movements quickly synch up, reflecting one another perfectly. It feels so natural, and everything else falls away. For a few perfect minutes, they’re back at the academy, looking into each other’s eyes and laughing as they dance, and falling in love for the first time.   
  
The song ends all too soon, and Azula feels so bereft. She looks at the orchestra, stupidly willing them to play it again. She doesn’t want to let go of Ty Lee, but suddenly, Ty Lee goes beet red and drops her hands like they’re live coals. Azula feels a touch on her shoulder, and she nearly jumps out of her skin. She turns to see Chan Li, looking happy and exhausted. “That was fun,” he says. “Do you want to get some air?”  
  
“Yes, of course,” Azula murmurs automatically. She feels shame and guilt clawing up her throat, like he’s just caught her doing something improper. Her husband is standing right in front of her, and two minutes ago, she had been fantasizing about kissing her dance partner. But he’s unaware, as usual, and he smiles at Ty Lee before taking her hand - the one Ty Lee had just been holding. They leave, and Azula can’t help but turn back and look over her shoulder, and Ty Lee is staring after them, looking heartbreakingly lost and sad.   
  
It’s all that Azula can do to force herself to take deep breaths, trying to keep herself from panicking. She hasn’t had a panic attack about anything besides Lan Min’s health and well-being since her daughter was born, but she feels one creeping up on her now. The world is receding, her heart is racing and her stomach twisted up in knots. She feels like she might faint, but she can’t let it show. Chan Li knows her too well, and he’ll ask what’s wrong, and she’ll have to come up with some lie or another.   
  
Azula breathes deeply, in and out, focusing on the smell of jasmine in the air and the breeze that stirs her hair. She calls upon every iota of discipline she has and forces the panic back. It will hit her later, but she can lock herself in the bathroom and deal with it in private. What is left is a sense of fragile, icy calm. She can work with that.   
  
“The fireworks are lovely,” she remarks, and her voice sounds entirely normal.  
  
“They are.” Chan Li puts his arm around her shoulders as they walk. “You know what’s strange? I overheard someone inside telling his friend to enjoy this wedding to the fullest, because the next royal wedding won’t be until Princess Lan Min gets married. I almost choked on my drink.”   
  
Azula shudders. “That is a bizarre thought.”  
  
“Can you imagine? Twenty years from now? I’ll be so proud, but I’ll be a wreck. I’ll cry more than your mother has today.”  
  
“I can believe it.” Involuntarily, Azula imagines herself and Chan Li, twenty years older, standing with Lan Min - not a baby anymore, but a tall, strong young woman. She blinks hard. Distracted, she lets Chan Li lead the way, and eventually, they come to a secluded garden far into the courtyard. The lanterns and torches in the hall are nothing but a dim, distant glow, and Azula stares around, a faint memory stirring inside her. “This place looks familiar,” she says.   
  
Chan Li lights the torches in the pavilion with a sweep of his hand, revealing the tall, perfectly manicured hedges, the elaborately carved stone benches, and the marble fountain in the middle of the garden. “It’s where you brought me to talk, the night of our engagement dinner,” he says, a little nervously. “It was the first time we met, and the first time we spoke properly.”  
  
Azula nods. “I remember now.” She smiles, a little. “You didn’t want to come so far out here because you were concerned about propriety.”  
  
“And you told me that I would have to earn your trust.” He reaches out and gently brushes a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m so proud that I did.”  
  
Chan Li takes both of her hands in his and exhales hard, and Azula has the impression, again, that he’s nervous. “I brought you here because I wanted to ask you something,” he says. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but today just brought it home, especially when we were talking to your mom.”  
  
Azula raises an eyebrow, trying to quell her own nervousness. Her first instinctive, panicked thought is that he knows about Ty Lee, or he’s suspicious, but then why would he have bothered to bring her out here? “What is it?” she asks, trying to sound as casual and normal as possible. “The suspense is killing me.”  
  
Chan Li takes a deep, bracing breath. “Will you marry me?” he asks, all in a rush.  
  
Her relief is quickly replaced by confusion, and Azula frowns, wondering if he had fallen down while dancing and sustained a head injury. “We’ve been married for close to three years,” she says slowly. “And we have a daughter, whom we were just discussing.”   
  
Chan Li’s nervousness seems to have been replaced by full-on anxious sweating. “I know that,” he says. “I was just - I mean, I’ve been thinking, you and I, we - it was arranged by our parents. By my parents and Ozai,” he adds hastily. “We had nothing to do with it. There was no choice, not really, for either of us. And I wish it could have been different. I wish we could have met under normal circumstances and chosen each other. I wish I could have proposed to you properly, and you could have been happy when you said yes. I wish we could do those early days over.”   
  
Azula stares, trying to take it in, and Chan Li rakes his fingers through his hair, messing it up further. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t think I’m making much sense. Do you understand what I’m saying?”  
  
Azula reaches out, pressing her palm against his chest. “I do,” she says. “You’re being a romantic.”  
  
Chan Li puts his hand on top of hers. “I am,” he replies, and he looks at her hopefully. “It would be nice to have our wedding again, with just family there. _Your_ family can be there, since they were all missing last time. You could be a happy bride, and your mom and Mai can help you get ready. It’ll…” he hesitates. “You’ve been upset all week, in all this time leading up to the wedding. I know your memories of our wedding weren’t happy ones. This will replace them.”   
  
Absurdly, Azula feels tears prick at the corner of her eyes. She swallows over the tightness in her throat and looks down, overwhelmed - by his kindness, by her own guilt and heartache, by everything. “No, no,” Chan Li says, alarmed, and he hugs her, rubbing her back. “Don’t cry.”  
  
Azula closes her eyes and leans into him. _I wish we could have chosen each other_ , he had said.  
  
Finally, she pulls back and wipes her eyes, and takes his hands. “Yes,” she says. “I would be happy to marry you.”  
  
Chan Li picks her up in a tight hug and spins her around, just like he had when she was pregnant and told him that she felt Lan Min kick for the first time. Azula remembers, and she remembers everything that they have been through since then, and even before.   
  
Her happiness is not hollow, but it is bittersweet.  
  
-  
  
Azula debates whether she should do it or not for some time, but on the day that the Earth Kingdom delegations are scheduled to leave, she knocks on Ty Lee’s door.  
  
“Just a minute!” Ty Lee sings out from the other side. Azula can hear sounds of activity, a trunk being slammed shut, before Ty Lee flings the door open. She sees her and smiles, but it’s happy and sad all at once.   
  
“May I come in?” Azula asks. “I understand that you must be busy with packing. I won’t be long.”  
  
Ty Lee steps back. “No, stay as long as you want! It’s fine.”   
  
Azula enters. Despite the fact that she has only been here for a short amount of time, Ty Lee’s room is in a predictable state of disarray, and Ty Lee sidles over to the sofa, kicking a pair of shoes underneath it. “Sorry about the mess,” she says.  
  
“I’m the one who should be apologizing.” Azula looks at her. “I’m sorry for what happened at the wedding,” she says. “For dancing with you, and for Chan Li turning up like that. I shouldn’t have done it. I sincerely regret any pain that it caused you.”  
  
Ty Lee looks back at her steadily. “You have nothing to be sorry about,” she says. “I…It was hard to see you walk away with him afterward. It was a reminder that whatever you and I have - or had - he’s going to be the one you share the rest of your life with. But I thought about it later, and Azula, I’m so happy you danced with me. I’m glad that we had that. For all this time, I’ve been carrying around this last memory of you at the Boiling Rock that was awful and painful. Now, I have a much better memory, and I’m thankful for that.”   
  
Azula just nods, too struck for words, and Ty Lee steps forward and gives her a hug. “It’s okay,” she says. “It really is.”  
  
“Are you ready to go back?” Azula asks, clearing her throat self-consciously, when they pull apart.   
  
“I am! I’ll miss Mai and Zuko - and you,” Ty Lee adds tentatively. “But I miss everyone on the island, especially the people in the classes I teach. I’ve been thinking about them every day and hoping that they’re doing all right.”  
  
Not for the first time, Azula hopes that Kyoshi Island recognizes what a gift they have been given in Ty Lee. “You are always welcome at the palace,” she says. “I’m sure Mai and Zuko have told you that, but I wanted to extend an open invitation on my behalf as well.”   
  
Ty Lee blushes. “Thanks,” she says. “And you - and Chan Li, and Lan Min - should definitely visit Kyoshi Island someday. I bet Lan Min would get a kick out of seeing the unagi. From a distance, though. A really, _really_ safe distance.”   
  
Azula grimaces, knowing that Chan Li, with his adventure-seeking tendencies, would probably try to take the unagi around the bay for a joyride. “About Kyoshi Island,” she begins curiously. “…Have you met anyone?”  
  
It takes a moment for Ty Lee to pick up on her meaning, and when she does, she blushes harder and and scuffs the carpet with her toes. “There’s this one girl,” she says. “She helps her dad run the noodle stall outside the dojo. She’s really nice. But I don’t know if she’s - you know.”   
  
“Hmm.” Azula considers it, wonders about the earning potential of a noodle stall proprietor, and then places a hand on Ty Lee’s shoulder. “Whoever you end up with, make sure that she is a remarkable person who treats you with the utmost love and respect,” she says softly. “You should have all the happiness in the world.”   
  
Ty Lee’s eyes fill up with tears. “Thank you, Azula,” she says, her voice breaking. “That means so much to me. And you know I want the same for you, always.”   
  
Azula takes a deep breath, willing herself to maintain her composure. She can’t remember the last time a parting was this difficult. “I suppose this is good-bye, then?”  
  
“Only for a while,” Ty Lee says, wiping her eyes. “I’ll try and come back when Mai has her baby! Hopefully it won’t be too long from now.”  
  
Azula pulls a face, distracted by the idea of Mai as a mother. Undoubtedly, Mai had felt the same way when Lan Min was born. “I think Mai would disagree with you there.”  
  
Ty Lee laughs, and then she stops, twisting her hands in the fabric of her green robes. “I was wondering…” she says, before looking at her shyly. “Would it be okay if I wrote to you? Like I write to Mai? You can say no,” she adds hastily. “If you don’t think it’s a good idea. I completely understand. It’s just that - you were my best friend, before I realized that I loved you, and I would like it if we could still be friends. But again, I totally understand if—“  
  
“Ty Lee,” Azula interrupts, and she takes Ty Lee’s hands in both of hers. “I would like that very, very much.”   
  
Ty Lee beams, and it is as radiant as the sunrise, and it is hard to let go of her hands. Azula does, with an effort. “Have a safe trip back,” she says. “I can’t believe you’re steering your own ship. How plebeian.”  
  
“It’s a lot of fun, actually!” Ty Lee hugs her. “Take care,” she says quietly. “And I’m so glad that we’re okay.”  
  
Azula closes her eyes and breathes in the scent of Ty Lee’s soap and shampoo, the same sunflower scent she has always favored. They stand like that, their arms around one another, and it’s the same way she had felt when they had danced together. Like her heart is breaking and whole at the same time.  
  
Then she draws back, wishes Ty Lee a safe journey one more time, and leaves, fighting the urge to look over her shoulder. Azula goes back to her rooms, which are thankfully empty. She locks herself in the bathroom, turns on the bath to muffle any noise she might make, and paces up and down the expansive glass-and-marble bathroom, her hand pressed over her mouth. She thinks about Ty Lee’s sunflower scent, her smile, and her eyes, and the happiness and joy that radiates out from her, warming everything it touches. She imagines Zuko as the sole Fire Lord and herself as the proprietor of a noodle shop on Kyoshi Island - or better yet, the governor - and—  
  
Azula sits down on the edge of the bathtub and puts her head in her hands and weeps.  
  
She cries for a long time, and doesn’t try to stop herself. This will be the last time she cries over her and Ty Lee, and the life they might have had. All of it needs to come out.  
  
When she is finished, exhausted and dehydrated from her tears, she sinks into the bathtub and scrubs the evidence from her face. She breathes in lavender-scented oil until her headache fades, and inhales the steam rising off the water until her nose clears. She rinses her eyes out and applies a cold compress until there’s no trace of redness or puffiness.   
  
After drying off and getting dressed, and combing her hair out and applying makeup until she is satisfied with how perfectly normal she looks, Azula goes out and sits on the balcony. The sun is warm on her skin, and she focuses on that feeling. It will give her strength and help her recover.  
  
After some time, she hears the glass door sliding open, and she turns. Rao the dog barges onto the balcony, paws skidding on the floor and tail wagging. Chan Li is a step behind, holding Lan Min in his arms. “There you are,” he says, lifting Lan Min’s hand and helping her wave in greeting. “I thought you would be out here. It’s beautiful out.”   
  
“Mama,” Lan Min says, reaching out to her, and Azula smiles, holding her arms out. Chan Li gently settles their daughter into her arms, and Azula smooths her hair back, pressing a kiss to her forehead.   
  
“How are you, my darling?” she asks.   
  
Lan Min babbles happily, nestling her head against Azula’s neck. “I think she’s trying to say that she’s fine,” Chan Li explains. “She’s thrilled with the spinning tops that Avatar Aang bought for her.”  
  
“Stupid Avatar,” Azula mutters uncharitably. “Trying to buy our favor.”   
  
“I think it was nice of him to bring a gift for her,” Chan Li says, placating, as always. “Lan Min will work with Avatar Aang when she’s the Fire Lord, after all, and whoever his successor is.”   
  
Azula looks at her daughter, holding her tiny hand, and Lan Min smiles up at her. Not for the first time, she is struck by the fact that her daughter will lead the Fire Nation into an entirely new era, filled with developments that she may not even be able to fathom.  
  
“You will be wonderful,” she murmurs. “I’ll be so proud.”   
  
Chan Li puts an arm around her. “She will,” he says. “Because she would have learned from the best.”  
  
“Do you really think that?” Azula asks, looking at him. “Or is that your bias speaking?”  
  
“You’re only three years into your reign, and you’ve ended the Hundred Year War, ensuring that the Fire Nation and its citizens will be more prosperous than they have been in generations.” Chan Li shrugs. “That alone will make you remembered forever. And who knows what you’ll accomplish over the next decades?”  
  
“An intriguing thought,” Azula muses.  
  
“By the way,” Chan Li says. “I ran into Mai and Zuko when we were saying goodbye to the delegations. They want to know if we’re still on for family dinner tonight with your mother.”   
  
_Family dinner._   
  
He says it so casually, so offhandedly. Over the past months, it’s become a casual statement. Zuko says it, and Mai, and her mother, and she does too. And it’s an odd moment, a crystallizing moment, because Azula can see and feel it all with such clarity. The sun on her skin, Chan Li by her side, her daughter in her arms - and she realizes that she is so loved. By her mother, her brother, her sister-in-law. Her husband, and her daughter.   
  
She has a family. A family that loves her and supports her, and she will never be alone and unloved and despised again.   
  
She has lost, in her life. But she has gained so much too.   
  
“Yes,” Azula manages, when she regains the ability to speak. “We are. Shall we get ready?”  
  
She stands, and Chan Li as well. Carefully, Azula places Lan Min down, into a standing position. Chan Li holds her hand, and Azula takes Lan Min’s hand, and they walk inside together.  
  
-  
  
 _the end_  
  
-  
  
I want to say the sincerest thank you to everyone who has read this story, and especially everybody who has left comments and kudos along the way. I have been working on this project for over two years, and your encouragement, interest, and patience helped keep me motivated. When I started writing, I had no idea of the scope that this project ultimately would take on, in terms of length of the story and themes, and it’s been wonderful to share it with you. I hope that you enjoyed the ending, and as always, I would love to hear your thoughts.  
  
There will be an epilogue, which will provide a look into Azula’s later life. :)   
  



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